


The Mystery of the Meteor Men

by GreyGhost



Series: The Dragon's Heart [5]
Category: Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-04-03 04:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 38,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4086307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyGhost/pseuds/GreyGhost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Guy Fawkes Eve brings deadly visitors to London; a stranded Doctor and his lock-picking companion are granted refuge by Jenny at 13 Paternoster Row; and in Egypt the Foreign Office has handed Madame Vastra a Mummy Case…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - November 5, 1881- Evening

**Author's Note:**

> Before we begin: This story is based on The Brilliant Book 2012 (again) but is very Jenny-centred. If you really like Madame Vastra, please be aware that she’s away for most of this adventure. Just don’t want people looking for her and being disappointed. However, Jenny finds some new people to help and one of them is very, very old...

**Prologue -**

_Remember, remember, the Fifth of November_  
The Gunpowder Treason and plot;  
I know of no reason why Gunpowder Treason  
Should ever be forgot. - Traditional English Rhyme

**Saturday, November 5, 1881 - Central London - Evening**

“Penny for the Guy!”

Wiggins (no other name known) called out his pitch in the loudest voice his small frame could muster. He had a decent spot near the Holborn Viaduct. The parish’s Guy Fawkes procession would go right by his stand. From time to time he got lucky; a coin or even two found its way into the old cap beside the old rags stuffed into the shape of a battered Guy Fawkes. Wiggins wasn’t worried that the ragged clothes were falling apart at the seams; by the end of the evening, the Guy would burn. So long as he made a few coppers, it was all good with him.

As the second command of the small but clever gang who hung around St Pauls Cathedral and the great publishing houses on nearby Paternoster Row, the wiry youngster had a small but regular income. The gang, a group with more bravado than sense, had been taken in hand in the last few months by their new Captain, with profitable results.

In mid-August, a few of the young toughs, thinking they had easy pickings in a newly arrived widow and her maid, had decided on a bit of housebreaking. It had been a painful mistake. Instead finding an easy raid where they could bully a pair of helpless females, the young toughs had their arses handed to them. They’d all heard of The Banker’s Rescue down the road in Cheapside in the Spring; a man saved by an umbrella wielding widow and her broomstick swinging maid, but that had been months ago. And besides, who would believe a Henny Penny tail like that? How were they to know that their new neighbours were THAT widow and her young companion! 

Luckily although they were definitely defeated they were only lightly mauled. And then they received the most blistering raking over the coals in their young lives. The Widow didn’t say much, merely stood there, ominous and forbidding in her dark clothes and hidden face, while her girl paced back and forth in front of them, describing their many flaws. Eventually Wiggins had forgotten his embarrassment and anger and began to listen to what she said. She never repeated herself, she barely swore, but she certainly described their shortcomings, in brains, in brawn, in planning and in most certainly in getting things done! Eventually she had each of them empty their pockets, took what little they had, and told them they had to earn it back. They worked for Madame Vastra now.

Over the next few weeks, as ears were cuffed when needed, they did just that. And a then a few members of the gang had their lives saved from a bunch of really bad coves. And the sister of Bookstore, one of the Paternoster Row apprentices who sometimes slipped the boys a farthing when he could, was rescued from a situation that had turned very, very nasty. That cemented the loyalty of the whole gang forever. And so the Captain gained the loose-knit gang’s respect, and began to assert her authority. 

The youngsters learned to use their skills in new and mostly lawful ways, and settled in to make small but adventurous livings running errands and tracking down chatter and people on The Captain’s orders. Sometime in addition to their pay she fed them too. While the food was plain, it featured plenty of meat, bread and vegetables. Most of the boys never ate so well in their lives!

***

Wiggins looked up over the line of building around him, hoping to see some fireworks. Most of the area was lit up with lanterns and torches, but there was still a dark patch over near the railway yards near Ludgate Hill Station. Suddenly, against the darkness, Wiggins saw something falling from the sky. Four burning shapes. Didn’t look like any fireworks he’d ever seen, usually they went up, not down. In the distance he heard a muffled crash. Or was that his imagination? He looked around, but no one else seemed to have heard the sound. 

Wiggins hesitated a moment. If he stayed, he might beg a few more small coins, but more and more ‘Guys’ were being carried into the street, and that meant less coins to go around. On the other hand, information was something everyone in the gang was always well paid for.  
Snatching up his cap and the coins inside it, Wiggins wove quickly through the crowds towards Ludgate Hill, leaving the ragged Guy Fawkes sprawled on the pavement, until someone took pity on it, and heaved it on to the local bonfire to finally burn.

***

Wiggins crept through the dark railway yard, squinting a little at what he saw. Four burning shapes, each the length of a man, and half as wide and deep. Shaped a bit like giant pea pods...  
Three of the pods were half-buried in the dirt, but looked like they were in one piece. The fourth one had rammed into a brick storage shed, and the building had caved in on it.

All the pods glowed red, and even from where he was hiding, Higgins could feel the heat. He watched for a few minutes as the pods quickly cooled, fading from glowing red to black. And then there was a quiet “chuff,” and three pods opened. The fourth one, half buried in the pile of bricks, did not.

From each of the three open pods a man stiffly climbed out. At least Wiggins thought they must be men. In the dim light from the distant gas lamps, two of the figures definitely looked human, but the other was short and squat, and seemed to have a hat or hood that made its head seem pretty wide. As that one turned back for a moment to check behind ‘him,’ Wiggins saw its face in the dim light from the street.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t a man. It looked more like a really angry pig! Wiggins gasped, and the thing began to turn towards him.

“Oi! You there! Stop where you are!” A deep and powerful voice called out.

Wiggins froze, but remained tense and ready to run. He glanced to his right, and could see a burly railway guard running towards the group of men. He’d never been so happy to see a guard in all his life!

The pig-man turned to the railway man, and looked him up and down for a moment. Then it turned towards to other and grunted something. To Wiggins, the sound was harsh and sharp.

One of the others raised a hand, and pointed at the guard. There was a flash of light, and the guard fell, hard. There was a smoking hole in his chest.

Wiggins could only stare, horrified.

The thing that looked like a man dropped it arm to its side, and stood there, not moving. The pig-faced man went to the guard’s body and looked it over, then waved over the man who’d shot it, and barked something more.

The killer simply pointed again, and set the body glowing. In less than a minute, it had turned to ash.

The things turned again, and walked away, never looking back.

Wiggins knew that something was very wrong. He needed help, from the sharpest tack in the whole City of London. He needed the Captain of the gang!

He needed Jenny Flint!


	2. Chapter 1: Saturday, November 5, 1881 - Central London - 13 Paternoster Row

**Chapter 1: Saturday, November 5, 1881 - Central London - 13 Paternoster Row**

_Thursday October 20, 1881 - Cairo, Egypt_

_To Jenny_

_I know you were unhappy with being required to remain in London. However now that I am in Cairo I must admit that the idea may have some merit. The Foreign Secretary was correct when he briefed me with Colonel Lethbridge; the situation in Egypt is extremely dangerous. There is considerable unrest between the various factions of so-called ‘European’, ‘Turkish’ and ‘Egyptian’ Apes. There is also a great deal of noise amongst the English at my hotel about ‘rebellion’ and ‘revolution.’ From what little of it that I can understand, a local military officer is trying to end the influence of the British and the French over the country. There are also some fears that England and France could lose the Suez Canal to Egypt. I’m not certain how they could do that; it’s already in Egypt! In all, there is much talk of possible violence. While there the are many of the local hatchlings children about, I have seen very few dressed like the ‘Europeans.’ I think they may be in hiding or have been sent away for safety._

_The weather here is lovely though; it’s very warm, which makes a pleasant change from the cooler autum weather in London. I have now met the excavation team that needs my protection. For reasons of secrecy, I cannot tell you where they are digging, but it certainly seems like the middle of a desert to me. They are sponsored by a relatively new institute which enjoys the patronage of Queen Victoria, and which is interested in researching all manner of cultures and technologies, the more ‘alien’ apparently, the better. The head of the research team is Professor Nolan Haines, of the University College, London. He says he is an old friend of Colonel Lethbridge._

_I must close now, if I am to get this letter to the river boat which is delivering supplies and collecting the post._

_Give my regards to Doctor Garrett, and let me know if Inspector Abernathy has missed any clues recently. I will write again soon._

_Madame Vastra_

 

Jenny re-read the letter delivered that morning. ‘Blasted lizard woman’s a thousand miles away,’ thought Jenny, ‘and she’s still almost reading my thoughts.’ Madame Vastra was right; Jenny Flint was not a happy youngster. She was especially not happy with Madame Vastra.

Things had gone well until just over a month ago. They’d moved into the lovely big house at 13 Paternoster Row on the first day of August. They’d both had great fun exploring the great rambling place, which had a narrow front with a deep blue door, specially painted at Madame’s request. The house itself was long and tall, fitting a great number of rooms into what looked on the street to be a very small space. Jenny had mentioned that it was bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside, and Madame Vastra only laughed and then agreed.

Shortly after they moved in, and after a mite of trouble which was quickly dealt with, Jenny started making friends among the local errand boys, flower girls and other street urchins. They proved very useful when Inspector Abernathy quietly asked Madame Vastra for help on a new case, the murder of a man the police called Enoch Drebber. Madame and Jenny helped him solve the case easily enough. 

All the fun changed though when the Foreign Office asked Madame Vastra to investigate some strange goings on in Egypt. And that`s why Jenny was feeling put out. The foreign office simply refused to provide a passport for her. ‘cause of the ‘danger’. So instead, Jenny was stuck in London.

Jenny glanced at the top of the letter again, and the words “To Jenny.” She thought that was a bit better than the first letter she’d received, written a few days after Madame left London in late September. That one was stiffly headed, ‘Miss Jenny Flint’, and other than a few sentences about travelling by train and boat and train again, was simply a set of instructions about things to study while Madame Vastra was away. Mind you, Jenny was grumpy at being left behind, and was a bit sulky about it before Madame left. It hadn’t been a good time for either of them.

She'd spent the last few weeks studying with Doctor Garrett-Anderson. Doctor Garrett was impressed with how steady Jenny was when handling the dying woman they’d tried to help back in July, and thought Jenny might make a good nurse with a bit of teaching. So far, Jenny found learning to treat cuts and broken bones and such pretty interesting, but didn’t think she really wanted to be a nurse for the rest of her life. She remembered losing most of her family to sickness, and blood loss, and it just hurt too much to see someone who was really ill. 

Dr Garret had gone to visit a friend in Edinburgh, another medical woman, for the next two weeks. So Jenny was a liberty to stay at Paternoster Row, and do any cleaning or other tasks that needed to be done. 

But for now she had a rare treat. For the first time, she was going to see the Guy Fawkes Procession along Cheapside!

***

The triangle where Paternoster Row, Cheapside and St. Paul’s Churchyard ran together was ablaze with gas lamps, torches and a bonfire. Thousands of people lined the pavement, and the many carriages and carts that would normally be out at night all found different paths this evening. In these streets their place was taken by a long procession filled with masquerade characters, military and naval officers, clowns, jockeys, courtiers of the time of the Georges and other English monarchs, volunteers, firemen, banners, several bands, and on either side were numerous torchbearers. As the procession marched there was a continuous blaze of red and green fire. Some of the public houses on the route were decorated with flags and lamps, and hundreds of people had put coloured lights in the windows or on the roofs of their houses and offices. Jenny that it was all very grand. She’d found a spot with a good view, and was happily looking at both the marchers in the street, and keeping an eye on the crowd around her. Had to be careful on a night like this; the pickpockets would be out looking for an easy mark.

Speaking of which, was that Wiggins trying to push through the crowds?

“Wiggins!” shouted Jenny, and when the boy turned in her direction she waved her arm. Within moments the panting lad was by her side.

“Jenny. Been looking all over for you. Best you come see this. And maybe bring one of your Bluebottle friends if they’re about.”  
“Why, what’s happened?”

“There’s monsters loose. And they’ve killed a man!”

***

The local police were all busy trying to control the crowds, so Jenny and Wiggins returned to the railway yard by themselves. In the dim glow from the distant fires, Jenny could see the opened pods, and the smashed one as well.

And a dark spot that Wiggins claimed was the ashes of the dead man.

The two circled around the area. Jenny was careful not to get too close to anything or to touch anything. Not that she could see much in the near dark. The distant lights of the street lamps and bonfires didn't reach the rail yard very well. Madame Vastra had grumbled on their murder case about the site being disturbed, and while Jenny knew the London Police weren’t as fussy about such things, she still thought it was better to leave well enough alone until the adults had a look first. She could go over the ground afterwards and find what they'd missed.

“You said the monsters left?” She asked Wiggins.

“Yes, but they might come back. You know, for whoever’s in the broken pod.” He nodded at the mess half-buried under the bricks of the shed.

Jenny shook her head. “Doubt it. Anything in there is pretty bashed up.”

She waved at the nearby station. “Go see if you can find one of the railway police. I’ll look around and see if I can see any more clues.” Wiggins nodded and ran off.

Jenny circled the area again, and then went a short way in the direction Wiggin said the 'monsters' had gone.

And then she heard the voices.

***

Jenny was learning to use her ears. They’d caught the London Bombers by listening and watching, and asking questions. But Madame Vastra thought they could both do better. And since Jenny had the sharper hearing, she practiced listening to the sounds and voices around her.

In the cool night air, Jenny heard them before well before she saw them. A man and a woman. Jenny frowned. Their voices weren’t quite right. They spoke too well, more like Madame Vastra than most of the local folks. It would be easy to think they were looking for somewhere private for a tumble. But it was what they were saying that caught Jenny’s ear, and made her think a tumble was the last thing on their minds. Their words seemed to be completely out of place even for a city as modern as London. Jenny started carefully towards them, staying in the shadows.

“The strange radiation readings the TARDIS found originated near here.” said the man. “Keep your eyes open for anything unusual, Jo.”  
“Doctor,” the woman’s voice replied, “We’re in the middle of Victorian London on Guy Fawkes night. ‘Unusual’ doesn’t even begin to cover it. The place looks nothing like that “Oliver!” movie, now does it? ” She sounded young, but not as put out as most women Jenny knew would sound at being dragged into a dark railway yard in the middle of the night.

Jenny frowned at the strange words, but listened carefully. In a moment she had their general direction, and after that it was easy to spot the pair walking slowly towards her. The man was tall, and instead of a hat, his head was topped by a rumpled shock of snow white hair. He was well-dressed, but more like a dandy or an actor, with lots of swirling capes on his great coat. He held a small cylinder that shone a bright light, and he was searching the ground carefully.

'That's handy,' thought Jenny. 'Wouldn't mind one of those. Wonder where he got it?'

It was hard to tell, but the woman sounded a bit older than Jenny, but still young. She wore a long cloak against the cold. Strange to Jenny’s eyes, neither the man nor woman wore a hat of any kind. And when the woman gestured at something, Jenny caught the flash rings on the woman’s hand. Lots of rings. Oh that was just asking for trouble on a night like this!

“My dear Miss Grant…” started that man, but suddenly stopped. “Who’s there?” he called, looking straight at Jenny. The man shifted slightly to protect his companion, and Jenny realized that he was much taller than the woman beside him.

Jenny tensed, but didn’t move or make a sound.

“It’s all right. You can come out.”

Jenny remained still.

“Doctor, there’s no one there.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” The man began to turn away, then quick as a flash turned back again, saying “Catch!” Something bright flashed in her eyes, and she winced, and ducked, but still managed to catch the shining cylinder.

“Ah there you are.”

“It’s a girl!” exclaimed the woman.

“Yes, Jo. It’s alright, I saw her earlier, just a slight outline against the lights over there.”

“Well,” grumbled Jenny. “That was a fair cop.”

“What are you doing here in the middle of the night. Or is is that an improper question to ask?”

Jenny scowled at him. “Investi… Investi… looking into things.”

“What sort of things?”

“One of my friends found something. Wanted me to take a look.” Jenny eyed the man warily. “Your turn. What’s a pair of toffs doing out here in the middle of the night?” She glanced over at the woman for a moment. “‘Cause it sure doesn’t sound like you’re looking for what most people might think you are.”

“My dear girl, I doubt very much you can help us.”

Jenny smirked at him. “Maybe not. But maybe I can.”

“So if I was to tell you that we are looking for the source of a radiation that is unusual for this area, would you be able to help us?”

Jenny looked thoughtfully at him and then asked, "Not sure what radiation is…” The man scoffed gently and started to turn away but Jenny continued gamely, “But if something fell out of the sky, might that be what's causing it?"

The man suddenly look very interested. “Yes, yes it might. Can you show it to me?”

“Oi! You there! Stop where you are!” A deep and powerful voice called out. “You’re trespassing!”

Wiggins had returned with two Railway Guards and a lantern.

“What are you lot doing here?” asked a guard roughly.

“Looking for something. Possibly something very dangerous.”

“Dangerous? What is it?”

“I don’t know yet,” the white-haired man replied, “but I’m sure I’ll know it when I see it. Why are you here?” the man asked the guard.

“One of our men is missing,” said the second Guard.

“What you’re looking for’s over here,” said Wiggins. “You won’t like it though.”

“And you are?” asked the woman.

“Name’s Wiggin’s from over St Paul’s way, miss. Do you want to see this or not?”.

“Well, I certainly do,” said the white-haired man

“Here now, wait just a minute.”

Wiggins ignored the protest from the guard, and turned and led them on a little ways more to the ruined brick shed, the remnants of the pods, and the ashes of the Railway Guard’s body. Jenny followed, still in the shadows.

“Hold that lantern steady please” said the white-haired gentleman. He knelt and examined the ground gently. The men crowded in close.

“Where’s our guard?” asked one of the railway men. 

Wiggins glanced up at them. “You’re standing on him,” he said, pointing at the ashes on the ground. 

The men jumped back, startled. The white haired man shook his head and rose to his feet.

“What sort of gun does that?” asked the railway man.

“Wasn’t a gun. Looked more like lightening,” said Wiggins. “Shot right from the hand of one of the men what got out of those pods.” He pointed at the nearby shapes in the darkness. “Saw them just before they hit the ground. Whatever they are, they lit up the sky with tails of flames,” he finished.

“Not exactly inconspicuous were they?” remarked Miss Grant.

“Nooo…” drawled the man she’d called the Doctor. He pulled out another metal cylinder, and waved it back and forth over one of the pods. Jenny was surprised to hear it sort of whirr and chirp. He looked at it and scowled. “These are definitely the source of the radiation I’m afraid.”

“Is it dangerous?” asked Jo.

“I’m not sure. It’s starting to fade. But I’ve taken the readings, so I can examine them in more detail later.”

“Warder, go and see if you can find the police,” said one of the guards to the other, “And let the station master know to send some more men and lights out here. We’ll need to move… what’s left of Thomson when the Police have investigated.” The other man nodded and trotted off.

“Good luck with that,” muttered Wiggins. “Police didn’t come when me and Jenny asked earlier.”

Jenny didn’t point out that the police might listen to an adult better than to a pair of youngsters on Guy Fawkes night. 

“We should be getting along as well,” said the Doctor. “I want to see if we can use these readings to find the beings who did this.”

Jenny watched the adults carefully. Something about this ‘Doctor’ sounded different. Sounded like he was….

“You're a scientist, right?” she asked. Madame Vastra sometimes sounded like this.

“Yes, in a manner of speaking…”

“He’s a scientific advisor for the government,” said the woman suddenly, “And I’m his assistant.”

“His assistant!” the guard scoffed. “Is that what we’re calling it these days? What do you do, luv, hand him test tubes and tell him he’s brilliant?”

Jenny made a decision, and stepped forward.

“They’re with me. Scotland Yard will want to know what they find out.”

“Who the Devil are you?” scoffed the guard.

“Don’t be daft,” said Wiggins. “That’s Jenny Flint, Madame Vastra’s maid.”

“Madame who?”

“You know, the widow who lives up by St Paul’s. Always wears a heavy veil.”

“Oh! Her! Always has the Scotland Yard gent and a constable or two hanging about, right? Word is she gives the police a clue or two from time to time.”

“That’s her.”

The Guard shrugged. “All right then, sir, you can go. You’ll be easy enough to find if we need you.”

***

“So, you work for… Madame Vastra?” asked the Doctor as Jenny led them back to the street.

“Yes, sir.”

“Just call me the Doctor,” said the craggy faced man with a charming smile, “It will be easier to remember. And this is my assistant, Jo Grant.”

“The Doctor?” Jenny asked, something that Madame Vastra had said ages ago flitting through her mind. Her tone and look suddenly became focused, catching the Doctor’s eyes as she asked, “Doctor Who?”

The Doctor looked back at her for a long moment. The girl knew something. Something about him. “Just the Doctor,” he replied. “What did you say your name is?” he asked.

“Jenny Flint, sir. I`m Madame Vastra’s apprentice.”

Miss Grant looked surprised. “I’m sorry, I thought you were Madame Vastra’s maid!”

Jenny nodded. “It’s a good trick, right? People say lots more in front of servants than they like to think they do. Can’t tell us from the furniture, most people can’t.” She smiled at the pair of them, enjoying their shocked looks. “‘Specially young ones like me.”

Jenny turned and began walking again “So, where to now, Doctor?”

“Back to St. Paul’s Cathedral. My… laboratory is nearby.”

“Guess we’re neighbours then,” said Jenny slyly. “Madame lives on Paternoster Row.” ‘Wonder what he’ll say to that?’ she thought.

The two adults glanced at each other. “Well, not exactly,” said the Doctor.

“It’s a mobile laboratory,” said Miss Grant. “He tends to move around a lot.”  
Jenny just nodded. He didn’t look anything like what Jenny remembered, but it was a long time ago, and Jenny had been crying at the time, but she was pretty sure this was Madame Vastra’s friend The Doctor.

So that was all right. It was time for a good adventure.

***

As Jenny and Wiggins walked the pair back to St. Paul’s, The Doctor had Wiggins describe in detail the ‘men’ he’d seen. They were walking through the churchyard as Wiggins finished. The Doctor rubbed his chin in thought.

“I can’t place them off the top of my head, but one certainly sounds as if it might not be human.”  
Jo Grant shook her head. “Could it be aliens? Here in Victorian London?”

“Possibly. But I’m afraid we have another problem.”

“What’s that?”

The Doctor pointed at the nearby fountain, which was topped with a statue of St. Paul. “That was outside the door when we left the TARDIS, remember?”

Jo nodded. “I recognized it right away. So?” She looked around. “Wait, where IS the TARDIS?”

The Doctor shook his head. “That’s the problem. The TARDIS isn’t where we left it.” He gave Jo a worried glance. “It’s missing.”

***

Jenny and Wiggins glanced at each other and Jenny frowned, confused. “So this ‘TARDIS’. That’s your laboratory, right? It’s a carriage? Who did you leave watching it?”

“Well it’s a bit complicated to explain...”

Jenny could still hear the noise of the celebrations on the street. It was quieter now, as the time grew late, but there were still a lot of people about. And not all of them would be sober. “What’s it look like, Doctor?” she asked. “We can have a quick look, but that crowd sounds like they’re getting rowdy.”

“It’s a large blue box, marked ‘Police Call Box’ Trust me, you’ll know it when you see it.”

“Go and have a look around the south streets, I’ll check up the north side,” said Jenny. Wiggins nodded and disappeared into the dark.

“Doctor, you and Miss Grant keep looking around here. Wiggins and me are just going to have a look round the alleyways; see if someone moved it as prank.”

A quarter hour’s search turned up nothing, and the crowd was definitely more rowdy. Just as Jenny and Wiggins were returning, they saw two men confronting The Doctor and Miss Grant in the Churchyard.  
“Give us a kiss then, pretty lady, and a few of those lovely rings” slurred one of the men, grabbing Jo from behind. Jenny broke into a run, reaching for her knife, but she was still too far away. Jenny saw the woman drop suddenly to her knees, flipping the large man over her head and onto the ground in front of her. Jenny heard the whoosh as the wind was knocked out of him, and the man lay there stunned. At the same moment, the second man growled threw a haymaker punch, but the Doctor calmly grabbed him, and using his own momentum, tossed him to the ground, then delivered a quick blow behind his ear, and the man dropped unconscious.  
Jenny stopped, staring at the Doctor and the man on the ground. She’d seen that move before, years ago, at the Monstre Gathering. “Oh, now I see the resemblance, Doctor!” she said with admiration. She looked at the two men on the ground, and between the Doctor and Jo Grant, who he was just helping back to her feat. ‘Must learn those tricks!’ thought Jenny

“No luck finding your box Doctor,” said Wiggins.

Jenny nodded. “Right then, let’s get you out of here. We can walk you to a nearby street so you can hail a cabby. Where are you staying?”

“Nowhere at the moment. I'm afraid we'd made no arrangements for an overnight stay.”

“Where you sleeping in your carriage?” asked Jenny.

The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Well, it’s not so much as carriage as a ship.”

“A ship?” asked Jenny. “A ship that travels on land?”

“More like a ship that travels on whim,” muttered Jo, “which tends to disappear now and then.”

Jenny stopped and stared in surprise. “It’s alive?” she asked.

“Well, yes, in a manner of speaking,” replied the Doctor.

“That’s a bit different, isn’t it?” asked Jenny.

“Yes, yes it is,” sighed Jo.

Jenny hesitated a moment, chewed her lip, and then shrugged. “Best you come along with me then. ‘Round here isn’t as bad as the East End, or the Seven Dials, but the two of you likely want to get through the night with wallets in your pocket and rings on your hands even if you can take care of yourselves. It gets tiring keeping yourself safe after a few attacks in a night.”

Jo and the Doctor glanced at each other for a moment. It would solve their problem tonight, and they could always leave in the morning… 

Jenny saw them hesitate. “If you really are The Doctor,” she explained, “Then Madame Vastra would want me to put you both up, at least for the night. Sounds like you saved her life once. Saved mine too, for that matter. Though you don’t look like I thought you did. Mind you, I was kinda upset at the time, what with being kidnapped and all.”

“It’s a very kind offer,” said Jo. “Thank you...”

“We’ll be delighted to accept,” finished the Doctor.

Jenny grinned, “Come along then. Spit spot!”

***

The house was just around the corner from St. Paul’s. Jo Grant spotted a street sign for Paternoster Row, as Jenny led them to a townhouse. Jo had a brief glimpse of the dark front door with the number 13 above it. `There’s no knocker on the door,`she realized, `the family must not be in London. Only some of the servants.’ That would explain why a young girl was out in the middle of the night. Despite claiming to be Madame Vastra's 'apprentice' Jenny was likely the scullery or kitchen maid. Jo wondered how the adults would feel about the girl bringing home strays.

Instead of using the front door, Jenny led them down the steps of the front area, and let them inside through the kitchen door. The room was warm after the cool air outside. Jenny went to a huge stove, and to Jo’s surprise, turned on and lit the gas. Jenny checked a nearby kettle for water, and after putting it on the stove, turned to Wiggins. 

“You want a cuppa or to doss down for the night?” She asked.

The boy shook his head. “I’m good. Me mates’ll be wondering where I’m at. Best be getting along, now that I’ve seen you home safe. Give me regards to her ladyship when you can.”

And with that the boy vanished back out into the night.

***

Jenny took them up to the Library. While it was cooler than the kitchen, there was a fire laid in the grate, and once Jenny lit it, the room quickly warmed up.

“Have a seat and rest for a bit. I’ll be back with tea and something to nosh on in a few minutes. Want to get the rooms made up for you as well.”

The youngster vanished before either The Doctor or Jo could protest.

***

"So, I take it this Madame Vastra's an old friend of yours?" asked Jo Grant, a teasing note in her voice.

The Doctor shook his head. “That’s the trouble Jo. I’ve never heard of the woman before; and I certainly haven’t met her.”

“You’re sure?” asked Jo. “This isn’t you getting a little senile in your old age? You are… what two or three thousand years old now, aren’t you?”

“Nonsense, Jo, I’m still young at heart.”

The two grinned at each other. Jo glanced at the door. 

"Jenny seems pretty sure that you've met. Well, Madame Vastra should be able to sort it out."

"There is another possibility of course..."

"What's that?"

"We've accidently crossed my timeline, and it's... well... a future me who rescue's Madame Vastra and Jenny. But I'm not sure why Jenny didn't know what the TARDIS looks like."

"And where is the TARDIS, anyway?

"An excellent question.” The Doctor sat back with a thoughtful look.

“Wonderful! We’ve no idea if she’s been stolen, fallen into the sewers, or been grabbed by a  
giant hand. Again!” Jo sighed.

“Well she hasn’t simply disappeared Jo,” the Doctor defended his ship, “She’s around somewhere. She wouldn’t just wander off you know. Not without good reason.

Jo looked sceptical. “Could the Time Lords have taken her?”

“Possibly. But why would they? They took the time lock off months ago.” The Doctor fussed with his sonic screwdriver a bit. “She might have been moved by someone, as Jenny suggested, either as a prank or because she was in the way. Or someone's tried to steal her, in which case she'll turn up again. Or there might be a time overlap, but that's rather unlikely.”

“A time overlap?” said Jenny, causing both the Doctor and Jo to jump at the unexpected interruption. “What’s that?” She put down the tea tray, and poured the tea, while watching the Doctor expectantly.

To Jo’s surprise, instead of brushing the girl off, The Doctor stammered out a simple explanation, “It refers to an person or object being in a place, but the same object, from a different point in time, is already here somehow,” which still left Jo mystified, but she noticed that Jenny listened with her head cocked and then nodded a bit.

“All right, it’s one of those time loop and pair o’doxys things, right? Madame Vastra tried to explain those to me once.”

The Doctor was intrigued. “A Paradox? Did she indeed? Now why was that?”

Jenny just grinned at him. “Sorry Doctor. You’ll have to ask her that yerself. Can’t be blabbing all my lady’s tales, now can I?”

Jenny took a few minutes to pass them some biscuits and a bowl of apples, and to pour their tea, and tell them a bit about the house. Jo expected that since they were in Victorian England, Jenny would simply be one of many servants in the house, under the watchful eye of a housekeeper, a butler, probably a cook, and definitely a senior maid.

“All right then, when will we meet your Madame Vastra?” asked the Doctor.  
Jo watched intrigued as the girl’s face fell slightly, but Jenny continued bravely. “Don’t really know if you will, Doctor. She’s in Egypt at the moment, taking care of a problem for the Foreign Office. I’m afraid there’s just me here to help you out.”

“Where are the other servants?” asked Jo.

Jenny shrugged. “There’s only me, really. Madame Vastra likes her privacy.”

Jo suddenly realized that that Jenny was home alone, and scowled. Honestly, what sort of person would leave a young girl by herself in the middle of London!

Jenny left them to their tea, but returned about twenty minutes later, ready to show them to their rooms. She led them upstairs two floors and then waved towards a suite at the rear of the house. “I’ve put you in here, Doctor. There’s fresh sheets on the bed, and there’s a water closet and a bath through here. Miss Grant and I will be on the next floor up.”

The Doctor entered the suite. It was clean, the bed was newly made up, and there was water in a pitcher and fresh towels on the washstand. The room was also warmer than the Dining Room; there must have been a banked fire burning earlier. This room was lived in.

“Jenny is this your room?” asked the Doctor.

Jenny hesitated a moment, and then shrugged. “Yes, most o’ the time. Madame Vastra likes to have me within call. But she’s not here now and it’s not right to give a guest a small room while I take a big one. Miss Grant and I will be fine upstairs.”

“What about that room?” asked the Doctor, pointing to the door leading to the suite at the front of the house.

Jenny’s voice turned gruff. “That’s Madame Vastra’s room, sir. Best if we all leave it alone, right?”

The Doctor took the hint, and kept his curiosity in check. For now.

“Miss Grant, come on and I’ll show you your room,” said Jenny.

“Could you give us a minute?” asked Jo. “I just want to have a word with the Doctor.”

Jenny looked worried, but nodded, and went up the winding main staircase.

“Doctor, doesn’t this strike you as at all strange?” asked Jo. “The lady of the house not only isn’t home; she’s off in Egypt. Yet Jenny is inviting us in here, even if it’s in her lady’s name, without  
a qualm! ”

“I’m more concerned by the fact she’s splitting us up.”

“Oh no, that makes perfect sense coming from a Victorian maid. There’s no way she’d let you and I sleep on the same floor. It wouldn’t be right,” smirked Jo. “Your reputation precedes you, Doctor!”

The Doctor shook his shaggy head. “I’m more worried about you.”

“Me?” asked Jo, surprised. “Honestly, Doctor…”

“Now listen to me Jo, please! Jenny is young, but she isn’t as helpless as you might think. She was out at the railway yard to ‘find things out’ in the middle of a night known for its unruly nature. Her Madame Vastra seems to have a certain reputation with the police. And when you and I were attacked earlier this evening, Jenny saw us and was running to help.” He took a breath, and gave her a worried look.

“Be careful. Don’t startle her. Jenny was carrying a very large, very nasty knife. She drew it when we were attacked but concealed it immediately when it was clear we weren’t in danger. She might simply have it as a precaution against living in a rough area, and put it aside earlier, or there may be far more to that youngster than either of us might guess.”

“I’ll be careful Doctor. Good night.”

The Doctor reached up, and gently chucked her chin. “All right, Jo. Good night.”

***

Jenny checked the fire she’d lit earlier in the spare bedroom. The evenings were getting cooler, she’d need to make sure they had plenty of coal laid in. Madame Vastra wasn’t too fond of the cold, she knew.

The Doctor wasn’t what she remembered, either. She’d thought he had brown hair, not white.  
But then, she’d thought Madame Vastra was a woman wearing a green scarf, not a woman with green skin. So maybe she just wasn’t remembering right. 

She heard Miss Grant on the stairs, and went to find her.

The gas-lamps gave off a dim glow to Jo’s eyes, and she reached for a non-existent light switch, and then laughed gently at herself when she couldn’t find it. ‘It’s a pity you don’t have electric lights,” she remarked to Jenny.

“Electric lights?” asked Jenny. “That’s a new thing? Startin’ to hear all out electric this and electric that. Don’t know much about electric lights though! Sounds like something Madame would like.”

“Really?” asked Jo. “To me, this all seems so… well… old fashioned, I guess.”

“Oh, no!” said Jenny, “It’s a very modern house! We have gas lamps, and water closets, and our own Geyser for hot water! We even have a lift in the back stairs for taking the linen up and down!” Jenny grinned. “Madame wants to improve things even more though. Says the more the house looks after itself, the more time I`ll have to learn things properly, you see.” She led Jo into a large room at the front of the house. 

“Now, I’ve put you in here and got a fire started to take the chill off. The front rooms on this floor are bigger than ones at the back of the house, and if you look over to the left, you can see right down to the Thames. Oh, and this room has it’s own water closet, just through that door.”

Jo grinned to herself. ‘Which means I don’t need to be wandering around the house at night and getting into mischief with The Doctor.’ She noticed a spare nightgown on the freshly made bed. Jenny had been busy while she and the Doctor were eating earlier. 

“Is there anything else you need, miss?” Jenny asked.

“No. This is wonderful, and very kind of you, Jenny. Thank you for your help tonight.”

“That’s all right, miss. I’m next door if you need me.” Jenny gave her a slight curtsy, and left, closing the door behind her.

Jo chuckled to herself. ‘Right next door’ was the room closest to the stairs. Jenny, it seemed, wasn’t taking any chances with misbehaving adults. 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guy Fawkes Eve - November 5 - commemorates the defeat of the plot to blow up the House of Parliament in 1605.
> 
> The Enoch Drebber Case – Bonus points if you recognize the case from the Sherlock Holmes novel ‘A Study in Scarlet.’
> 
> The Doctor - This is the Third Doctor, portrayed by Jon Pertwee. He starred in five seasons which aired from 1970 to 1974.
> 
> Jo (Josephine) Grant was the Third Doctor’s assistant for three seasons from 1971 to 1973. This story is set after “Planet of the Daleks” and just before “The Green Death.” Katy Manning reprised the role on The Sarah Jane Adventures in the two-part “The Death of the Doctor” in 2010.
> 
> A Geyser - In 1868, an English painter named Benjamin Waddy Maughan invented the first instantaneous domestic water heater that didn't use solid fuel. Named the geyser after an Icelandic gushing hot spring, Maughan's invention made cold water flow through pipes that were heated by hot gases from a burner. Hot water then flowed into a sink or tub.


	3. Getting to know you...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Police and the Doctor investigate - November 6 - 7, 1881

Jo Grant woke up to the sound of someone pounding on the front door.

“Open up,” called a loud voice. “This is the Police!!”

“Oh not again!” Jenny groaned from the next room. Jo heard the window sash fly up, and Jenny call out. “I’ll be right down! Now, enough of that! It’s first thing on Sunday morning and you should know better!”

Jo poked her head out the door to see Jenny emerging from her room already fully dressed, with a thunderous look on her young face. “Morning Miss Grant! Breakfast may be slightly delayed on account of the police having no sense of time!” At Jo’s amused nod, the girl headed down the main staircase at a quick trot.

Jo dressed, although she only had the clothes that she’d borrowed from the TARDIS wardrobe the night before. The Victorian clothing was very different from her Carnaby Street clothes. `Mind you', Jo thought, `with no central heating, I can see how all the layers of clothing actually make sense, because they certainly are warm. Except for the bustle. That makes no sense at all; it only makes a woman’s rear end look big!`

***

While Jo puzzled over her outfit, Jenny and the Doctor met in the Entrance Hall. Jenny opened the front door, but the Doctor noticed that she did not immediately let the policeman in.

“’Morning Constable Lestrade.” Jenny said, a challenging tone in her voice. “Thought you were off Sunday duty this week?”

“The other fellows at the station let me know if they hear you are involved in any shenanigans, Jenny Flint!” replied the constable. “What’s this about monsters, murder and a pair of toffs? And are you going to keep me standing here on the steps?”

“So, you’re not here officially?” asked Jenny, delight in her voice. “Who’s in charge then? ‘Cause we’ll wait until he shows...”

Just then the Doctor heard a carriage stop in front of the townhouse. A moment later two more male voices spoke up, but both sounded far friendlier.

“Good Morning, Jenny!” 

“Morning Jenny! What sort of wasp’s nest have you and your friends discovered this time, hey?”

“Good Morning Inspector Abernathy! Constable Palmer! Nice to see you gents, come right on in. You too Constable Lestrade, if the investigatin’ officers are fine with it.”

The Doctor grinned broadly; despite her youth it sounded as if Jenny had the situation well in hand.

Jo Grant soon joined them, and proper introductions were made. Jenny insisted that The Doctor and Miss Grant should at least have their morning tea before things got started. Then while the police took their statements, Jenny would make breakfast, and then give her statement while Jo and The Doctor ate. Jenny invited the policemen to stay for a bite afterwards as well.

Since there were six people to serve, Jo went with Jenny, despite Jenny’s protest, to help with the tea things. Lestrade's intense scowl made Jo a bit nervous, and she was happy to have an excuse to escape. To her surprise, Constable Palmer came along with them as well.

As they went down the backstairs to the kitchen, Jo glanced over at Constable Palmer. Something about him reminded her about Corporal Palmer from UNIT, Sergeant Benton’s right hand man, but she couldn’t place what it was. ‘Probably just a coincidence,’ she thought. “How do you know all these policemen?” Jo asked Jenny.

“Inspector Abernathy we met while he was working on a case involving the Black Scorpions and bank robberies,” Jenny replied. “He’s with the Criminal Investigation Department of Scotland Yard.” Jenny glanced back at the man following them down the narrow stairs. “Constable Palmer here… well he and I sort of bumped into each other on the street one day. He thought I was a thief, but a gentleman we know from the Bank of England put him straight.” Jo thought she caught the constable blushing slightly in the dim light. Jenny continued, “...and then he was assigned to the same case as the Inspector by the City of London Police. They’re all right, miss.”

“And the tall thin constable with the permanent scowl?”

“That’s Constable Lestrade,” muttered Jenny, “Senior constable for this part of the city, and a royal pain in my ….backside,” she finished after a quick glance at Jo. “Beg your pardon, miss.”

‘Heavens,’ thought Jo, ‘the poor girl just tempered her language for my benefit. If she only knew what the soldiers with UNIT sound like when they forget I’m in the room!’ “He doesn’t seem to think much of amateur sleuths,” was all she said.

“Oh he’s fine with Madame Vastra. Now the former Inspector Peaslin of Scotland Yard, he was a real horse’s hindquarters. Lestrade just don’t trust me, on account of Someone,” Jenny said with a glare at Constable Palmer, “telling him I get into lots of scrapes. Now the blasted man thinks I’m out to steal St. Paul’s: lock, stock and pigeons!”

“I didn’t mean it like that; I meant for him keep an eye out for your safety, especially with Madame Vastra away!” protest Palmer quietly.

“Have you told HIM that?” grumbled Jenny.

“I have,” muttered Palmer. “He won’t listen to me.”

Jenny muttered something faintly blasphemous and stalked out of the kitchen. Jo looked at Palmer, confused. “Why won’t Constable Lestrade listen to you?” she asked.

Palmer stammered a bit as he glanced at Jenny and then away again, and Jo was left with the impression that at least one member of the City of London police had a rather embarrassing crush on Madame Vastra’s young maid, and no idea what to do with it. Jo could see why Jenny might find the man's attempts at over-protectiveness annoying, although Jo thought it was rather sweet. Talk about an age difference though! The man looked as if he was in his mid--twenties, and Jenny looked barely into her teens! Jo knew that such courtships were more common before the twentieth century, and marriage at sixteen was not unusual, but it was still a surprising thing to see.

***

Jenny, Jo and Constable Palmer soon returned with the tea tray, extra cups, and even a plate of biscuits for nibbling on. As they entered the room, the Doctor was asking, “The City of London Police have jurisdiction for this investigation? Not Scotland Yard?”

“Ludgate Station is in the City of London, Doctor, so the London Police have jurisdiction,” Inspector Abernathy explained. “However, as the Railway is involved, they sent a note round to Scotland Yard asking us to send someone too. I’ve worked with Constable Palmer before, as well as Madame Vastra, so here I am. No doubt the Railway Police will be looking into things as well, but murder investigations aren't really their strong suit.”

Jenny set out the cups and saucers, and then turned Miss Grant, eyed her for a moment with a slight frown, and then nodded. “Will you take charge of pouring the tea, please, miss?” she asked politely. “While I go get the breakfast started?”

Jo glanced over at the four comfortably seated men, who were all eyeing her expectantly. She made a slight face, but simply nodded and said, “All right, Jenny, leave it to me.”

“I have a question,” growled Lestrade, “And I’m surprised no one else has asked it.” He turned to Jenny. “Would you explain why these people are staying at Madame Vastra’s house in her absence?”

Jenny squared her tiny shoulders and frowned at him. “I’ve got standing orders from Madame Vastra. Certain folks are allowed to stay at the house if they need to. The Doctor here is one of them, and that means anyone with him too, like Miss Grant. It’s not my place to question Madame’s orders.”

Jo was amused to note just how quickly Jenny could use ‘following Madame’s orders’ when invoking them gave her an advantage.

Jenny bobbed a quick curtsey to the room at large, smirked briefly at Constable Lestrade and nipped smartly out the door.

“Cheeky little brat,” grumbled Lestrade.

“That’s enough Constable,” said Inspector Abernathy mildly. “Let’s begin at the beginning.” He turned to The Doctor. “Please state your name, sir.”

The Doctor smiled thinly, well use to the question. “Smith,” said the Doctor, “Doctor John Smith.”

“But everyone just calls him The Doctor,” interjected Jo, as she passed him a cup of tea. The two shared a brief smile at the shared joke, and then returned to answering questions and pouring tea.

***

After the initial round of tea and easy questions, Inspector Abernathy and Constable Palmer conducted interviews with Jo and The Doctor separately, working through their statements of what they’d seen and heard, and took lots of notes. Jo was amused to find herself cast as The Doctor’s ward again.

Constable Lestrade sat in on all the interviews, and made his own notes. Even though he wasn’t officially assigned to the case, Jenny had told Jo in the kitchen that it was better to let him be; Abernathy and Palmer would keep an eye on him, and trying to keep his nose out of it would only make him more suspicious of her than ever.

As they were finishing the statements, Jenny appeared with a tray of plates, and handed the first ones to Jo and the Doctor, followed by plates for the policemen.

“We’ll want to talk to your friend Wiggins, Jenny. Do you know where we can find him?” asked Palmer.

Jenny looked up from the breakfast tray and nodded. “He’s having a bite in the kitchen right now. He’s smart enough to come around early to answer your questions and get a meal out of it.”

Palmer tried to smother a grin. Inspector Abernathy didn’t even try. “All right then we’ll finish up here and go have a chat with him,” he said jovilly.

“No bullying him, right?” Jenny frowned at Palmer. “He’s done nothing wrong.”

“Not this time at least. All right Jenny, we’ll be gentle as lambs,” said Constable Palmer.

***

It didn’t take long for Wiggins to tell the police what he knew. They weren’t too pleased that he’d fetched Jenny instead of a constable, but could understand that he’d at least tried. It wasn’t the boy’s fault that Guy Fawkes Night was so distracting. When they were done with him, Jenny sent him to the nearby Central Post office to send a short telegram to Madame Vastra in Egypt, telling her _"The Doctor and Miss Jo Grant staying at Paternoster Row. Box carriage missing. Letter follows. JF"_

“Now that we’re done with all that, what about those pods?” Asked the Doctor. “They could be very dangerous.”

“The railway police have men on site to keep the public out,” said Inspector Abernathy. "We can let you have a look at them this afternoon if you’d like though. Just need to file these statements first.”

“I think that it would be wise for me to see those pods as soon as possible,” said the Doctor. 

***

While the police attended to their paperwork, The Doctor, Jo and Jenny headed out for another look around in hopes of finding the Doctor’s Blue Box. The morning was clear and crisp. Here and there they could see small scorch marks, and bits of cloth left over from the celebrations of the night before. But for the most part, Jo was surprised at how quickly the scavengers and dustmen of the City of London had made the area ‘right’ for the Sabbath.

She was almost overwhelmed by the stench of the streets though. It was one thing to know that Victorian London was filled with horses and horse droppings, coal fires, and people who only bathed once a week, once a month or perhaps once a year; it was something else entirely to actually experience the dreadful smell!

“Should we be worried about taking you away from your duties?” The Doctor asked Jenny, as she walked along briskly with them.

Jenny shook her head. “This IS one of my duties, Doctor. Madame Vastra and me, we look into things." 

The Doctor looked doubtful at that, and Jenny knew he didn't really believe her. She shrugged to herself. Well, he'd learn soon enough that she meant it. Or maybe he wouldn't. Gents were funny that way. You could tell'em something and tell'em again, even rub their noses right in it, and half the time they still wouldn't see what was right in front of their face.

"And if we're looking for your missing box carriage, then you two need a local guide."

Jo smiled at that. “I know a fair bit about London, you know.”

Jenny nodded without smiling, “Yes miss, I’m sure you do. But neither of you really know this London. Now do you?”

The Doctor and Jo shared a quick look. Jenny might simply mean that she knew this section of London better than they did, which was quite true. But once again, it sounded as if Jenny suspected that they were not just from this place, but possibly not from this time as well. But how could a young cockney maid in Victorian London know anything of the sort?

The trio searched carefully, and Jo was surprised how clever Jenny was at identifying back alleys, lanes and ‘closes’ to check in their search. She had to admit that the girl did know the local area. But despite their efforts and a thorough search around St. Paul’s the TARDIS remained missing.

They even ventured inside the great Cathedral itself, between early morning prayers and the later morning service. 

“Do you attend services here every week?” Jo asked Jenny. To Jo’s mind, the Victorians were overly fixated on religious services and morality, and weekly or even daily church attendance was a likely bet for a widow.

Jenny shook her head. “My lot never went to church much. Ma would sometimes mutter stuff about the Church and casting stones. Think there was a story there, but I never had a chance to ask. We’d go for Christmas though. Use to love the carols.” The girl suddenly looked sad. “Last year was the first time that we missed it. Da went drinking instead. Without Ma…” Jenny just shook her head. 

Jo decided to let the girl be on that memory for now. “And Madame Vastra?” she prompted instead, hoping to get a little more information on their mysterious hostess.

“Madame Vastra came once, just to hear the sermon and the choir. She thought the choir was pretty nice. But, Madame, well… she’s not a believer. She gave some decent money to one of the projects here though; repairing the roof or the vault or something. So they think well of her and leave the widow lady in peace.” 

Jenny stopped and dropped some coins in the Poor Box by the west door as they left the building. She caught Jo watching her and shrugged.

“Rather give a coin or two to a crossing sweep or a match girl; but Boxing Day is coming and there’s plenty of folks in the parish who need a few coins more than I do. Given how much my life changed this year, it don’t hurt to pass the kindness along. Maybe it will even bring a bit of luck, and your carriage box will turn up.”

But despite Jenny's charity and all their searching, there was no sign of the missing TARDIS.

***

Inspector Abernathy returned a few hours later, and they walked over to the small railway yard between Ludgate Hill Station and the Holborn Viaduct Station. 

As they entered the area, Inspector Abernathy looked around, and then found the ashes Wiggins had told them about. He looked at it with a frown and said “The boy must have imagined things, there’s not enough here for a body. It doesn’t even look right.” Jenny stood back from the adults, looking at the light sprinkling of dust on the ground. She kept a respectful distance away, not wanting to stir things up. Madame Vastra had taught her to disturb things as little as possible before either Madame or the police got a chance to examine them proper like.

“Let’s have a look at those pods.” The Doctor started towards them. “I thought you said the Railways Police are on watch?” he asked the Inspector.

Abernathy looked around again, puzzled. “They are. No idea where they’ve got off to.” 

The Doctor grunted, and bent to examine the pods carefully. Jenny watched for a minute, then returned to the Inspector, who was still frowning at the ashes.

A gust of air picked up a few specks of the dust, scattering it further as they watched. Jenny glanced up at Inspector Abernathy. “Windy, isn’t it? Think we’ll have a storm soon. Should we rig a cloth or something?”

Abernathy shook his head. “The guard is officially listed as ‘missing.’ We can’t just tell his family he was… turned to ash by monsters, on the word of a street boy. This could just be coal ash as far as we know. This is a railroad bed after all.” He shook his head, and with a sigh, wandered over to keep an eye on the Doctor. Jenny remained by the ashes, looking at them carefully, and then she started to slowly walk around them.

Jo watched the Doctor as well, but from time to time she glanced over to see what the young maid was doing. So she saw the moment when Jenny suddenly stopped, a look of disbelief and sadness on her young face. 

“What is it?” called Jo.

Jenny waved at the scattering of ash. “Wiggins was tellin’ the truth. They killed the man and burned the body. You can see it from ‘ere.”

Jo joined her, as did Abernathy and the Doctor. Jenny was right. From where she stood, they could see the ash formed a pattern on the ground, the rough size and shape of a man.

The Doctor knelt and carefully examined the scattering of ashes on the ground. Jenny watched with interest as he carefully ran his metal tube over the ashes, and it hummed. “What is that, anyway?” she asked.

“Sonic Screwdriver,” he replied. “A very useful tool.” He frowned, and rubbed his chin. “I’m sorry to tell you, Inspector, but these are human ashes. And they still have a rather high radiation reading as well.”

“Radiation?” asked Inspector Abernathy. “What’s that?”

“Hey you! Get away from there!” Two burly men were running towards them, shaking their fists. 

“I’ll explain later,” said The Doctor. “These are our missing Railway Police, no doubt.” 

“Marvellous,” said Jo, rolling her eyes. “Now they show up.”

The Railway Police were not pleased to see them. The Doctor led them over to the pods, gesturing at them angrily. As the adults argued, Jenny frowned at the scattering ashes. She pulled out her notebook, turned to a blank leaf and tore it out. Then she gently used a leaf to sweep some of the ashes on to the paper, careful not to touch the ashes and not to get too much dirt mixed in. She carefully folded the paper as Dr Garrett had taught her. Usually such a paper would hold a dose of medicine, but it would do to hold the ashes in case Madame Vastra wanted to examine them when she returned. Or in case the man’s family eventually wanted ‘something’ to mourn over. Losing family has hard enough, Jenny thought. She couldn't imagine never being able to bury them properly.

“We can’t help you, sir,” said one of the Policemen. “I must ask you to leave. Or we will arrest you for trespassing.”

“Scotland Yard was asked…” started Abernathy.

“We’ve got orders from direct from the Railway’s Board of Governors, Inspector,” explained the officer, holding out a piece of paper. “There's a group of experts coming tomorrow. No one else is allowed on the site until then.”

Abernathy grimly looked over the paper, and then handed it back to the Railway Police. “I’m sorry Doctor,” he said, “There’s nothing I can do right now. I need to return to Headquarters, and find out if the Commissioner can help.”

“Of all the idiotic…” exclaimed the Doctor. 

“Doctor, this isn’t helping.” Jo said, trying to calm him down.

“I know Jo. But once again we see The Bureaucratic Mind at its finest. Or dimest. Which amounts to the same thing!”

Inspector Abernathy coughed. 

“Sorry Inspector, he gets like this sometimes.” 

Inspector Abernathy led the back to the road. As they crossed back onto the pavement, a light rain began to fall. By the time they returned to the townhouse on Paternoster, the rain had washed away the remains of the Railway guard. The only evidence of what had happened to him was carefully tucked into Jenny’s notebook.

***

On Sunday evening, after a light supper, Jo found another disadvantage of Victorian London. When she wasn't out saving the world with the Doctor and UNIT, Jo enjoyed watching the telly or listening to the latest hits, either on the radio or her own records, But there was nothing to do in the house. Jenny had disappeared earlier in the afternoon, claiming that she some had 'practice time' to complete. Jo envisioned the girl labouring over some simple maths, or some basic reading or writing. But later in the evening, she found the girl in the kitchen after supper writing in a notebook. So what had she been practicing earlier?

Jenny looked up as she finished writing her notes of day's events for Madame Vastra, and saw Jo's bored expression. 

“You all right miss? Would you and the Doctor like some tea?”

“I’m sorry Jenny. I just can’t think of anything to do, that’s all.”

Jenny eyed her for a minute. “Would you like a game of draughts?” she asked. Jo readily agreed. They went up to the front Drawing Room, and found The Doctor prowling around.

“Jenny, do you have anything to read?” asked the Doctor as they set up the board. "Something new or interesting?"

Jenny nodded. “There’s lots of books in the library downstairs. Madame’s favourite is the ‘The Moonstone’ and there’s ‘A Tale of Two Cities’ by Mr Dickens. Madame liked that one, but thought the politics was very stupid....” Jenny frowned, thinking a moment, then said uncertainly. “Oh, and there's a Bible somewhere around I think; it came with the house…”

The Doctor smiled at her. “I don’t suppose you have anything… lighter perhaps?”

“There’s lots of copies of ‘The Illustrated London News’." Jenny suggested. "Madame Vastra likes them ‘cause she can see what people and places look like. Helps if she hasn’t seen them herself yet. And I’ve a few copies of ‘Young Folks’ magazine, if you want ‘em? I just bought the newest one on Saturday.”

“ ‘Young Folks!’ That sounds excellent!” The Doctor said happily.

Jenny grinned and started out the door. "There's a good story about pirates and treasure. I'll bring the last few copies so you can start at the beginning. Thought Madame might like the story too, so I’ve kept them for her to read. She might not understand all of it, though,” she finished as she went out the door.

The Doctor gazed thoughtfully after her, and then glanced at his companion. “Interesting pieces of information, eh Jo?”

Jo nodded. “It sounds like Madame Vastra’s not from around here,” she said. “Someone foreign maybe?”

“Something like that, perhaps. Another tiny piece of the puzzle that is Madame Vastra.”

***

On Monday morning, Jo found Jenny in the kitchen making breakfast. A half written letter lay on a small table nearby.

“Oh miss, I’m sorry,”said Jenny. “Didn’t know you were up!

“Oh, just call me Jo!” 

“Yes, Miss Jo,” Jenny nodded, "Kettle’s on the stove. Would you like a cuppa tea in the Dining Room?”

Jo rolled her eyes, and then grinned. “Defending your kitchen Jenny? I use to love sitting in the kitchen for Sunday breakfast. Of course, my family house isn’t quite as grand as this one.”

Jenny sighed. “Madame Vastra’s like that too. I keep telling her that 'cause she's a lady, she should eat in the dining room. Even I know that. But she says she don't like eating alone. Which makes no sense, 'cause she don't like most people too much. So we split where I have my meals; some days I eat in the Dining Room with her, and some days I’m down here, as I keep telling her that I should be eating in the kitchen. I need to practice acting like a maid, 'cause it's a handy thing to know. But on Sundays, she insists that she eats down here too. Says she likes the smell of the food.”

Jenny sighed. "Miss that. Miss her. Daft old liz..lady." 

Jo tilted her head, gazing thoughtfully at Jenny. Strange words for a junior maid. Unless Jenny was telling the truth. She was more than a paid servant. If she was Vastra's live-in student, a closer relationship, than Madame Vastra insisting that the girl take meals under her watchful eye actually made more sense. It almost sounded as if Jenny considered Madame Vastra as a friend.

Jenny shook her head. “Don't pay me no mind. Just feeling sorry for meself, and I've got no good cause. Now, there’s extra clothing in one of the rooms in the attic. Madame started occum, acclatin... collecting them, in case we had guests, she said. And I sent a note round to Mrs Mandlestam when I sent for the cabs the Doctor wants for this afternoon. She’s Madame’s sewing woman. See if we can get you an extra set of underthings if you want them. Ma always said two sets of clothes is better than just one.” Jenny looked very proud of herself for that piece of wisdom. 

Jo decided not to mention the large closetful of clothes she had back home. Different times indeed!

***

By Monday afternoon, they’d still not received any news about the scientists from the police. The Doctor decided not to wait any longer; he knew that sometimes ‘official channels’ took a dim view of outsiders, so he would not be surprised if they found they’d been ‘accidently’ overlooked. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d experienced bureaucrats meddling in potentially dangerous things that they didn’t understand. Fortunately, their cabs and drivers from Parker’s stable showed up as arranged and so they went to the crash site anyway.

They took two vehicles over to the site. The first was a hansom cab for The Doctor and Jenny. Jenny greeted the driver as "Mr Thompson." The cab was well-maintained, and the horse, 'Hotspur' as Jenny called him, was fresh and spirited. The other was a larger carriage, in case they needed to bring back one of the pods. Jo and Wiggins rode in that. Jenny wanted to make sure both the adults had locals with them. As luck and the London traffic would have it, Jo and Wiggins arrived first, and rather than wait for the others, they went to see if the scientists had been delayed, cautiously cutting across the tracks as they did so to save time.

The scientists hadn’t been delayed. There was an entire team of men at the site; consisting two men in suits, who Jo guessed were the scientists and the rest wearing railway work clothes.  
They were just finishing loading the last pod onto a cart.

“In the Queen’s name thank you lads for your work!” said one of the men wearing a suit.

“And addition to your wages, here’s something to take your thirst off.” The other man dipped a ladle into an open barrel marked ‘Beer’, and handed it over to the nearest workman. “Help yourselves lads! Thanks again for your troubles!”

“Oh that’s excellent that is. Thank you Guvnor!”

Jo tried to get close to the scientists, but there were too many workmen crowding about. She saw them climb up by the driver of the cart, and they started off down the narrow roadway leading back to the street.

“I’ll catch them, Miss,” said Wiggins, and dodged numbly after them cart. Jo decided to see if she could find out who they were and where they are taking the pods from the workmen.

***  
Jo was able to talk to one or two of the workmen once they’d had their beer, but it soon became obvious that there was a problem. The longer they spoke, the less they remembered.

“Do you know who those men were?” she asked the third workman she’d tried, “Do you know where they are taking the pods?”

“What pods? What are you talking about?” said the man, “Haven’t seen anything like that.”

“There were some scientists here a few minutes ago…”

“Scientists? Oh, yes they were here. They were doing tests on the soil. Something about meteor dust or some other rubbish. Said they were from Touchwood College or some name like that.”

Jo looked confused. “Touchwood? Touchwood College?” She was pretty sure that wasn’t at Cambridge or Oxford. Perhaps one of the other universities? And why were the men so forgetful!

“They don’t remember a thing! Why don’t they remember anything?” came a new voice from beside her. Jo looked around, and found a wiry, middle-aged workman staring at the others in confusion.

She shook her head, equally confused. She turned back and spied the beer barrel. It was lying on it’s side, almost empty.

“The beer! Did you drink any of it?” Jo asked the man.

The workman shook his head. “No ma’am. I’m a Teetotaller. And I think I’ve never been so glad of it as I am right now!”

“Then that must be it! There’s something in the beer!’

It was clear to Jo that the men had all forgotten most of the last half hour. She searched through the little purse that was part of the outfit from the TARDIS, and found a small bottle, possibly meant for smelling salts or perfume, but luckily empty. She knelt by the barrel, and bottled up a bit of the beer for the Doctor.

Their only clue was the dregs of ale left in the barrel, and Jo had a feeling that even that might not help, as she rushed back to the road. Given what little they had to work with, would The Doctor even be able to analyse it?

***

Wiggins followed the cart back to the road, although he’d called out to them a couple of times, the driver had ignored him. One of the other men had turned around and scowled at him, saying something to his companion in the cart. The other man, had glanced back, but shook his head. Wiggins heard him say “He’s just a street urchin. No one will believe him anyway.”

Wiggins hated that normally the man would be right, and tickled pink to know that at least a few people would listen to him.

Including the old Gent and the young girl who were just pulling up in the other cab. The driver had just stepped down to help them out when Wiggins ran up.

“Jenny, Doctor, those men have taken the pods!”

“You there!” called out the Doctor in a powerful voice, “Stop at once!”

The driver ignored him, and the cart set off at a brisk trot east on Ludgate Hill Road.

Without hesitation The Doctor climbed nimbly up to the driver’s seat, and calling “Hang on!” to Jenny, immediately set the horse and cab racing after the disappearing cart.

Wiggins and the driver were left standing on the pavement staring after him.

“Well, good things the stables are nearby,” muttered the driver, “although what Mr Parker will say about this I don’t know.”

Wiggins shrugged. “He’ll say ‘It’s Thirteen Paternoster Row, so when you knock on the door, be ready for an adventure.’” 

***

“This man is mad!” thought Jenny, as the Hansom Cab wove through the streets on London, in pursuit of the cart and its mysterious passengers. 

Jenny recognized the streets they passed through, as the Doctor expertly threaded the cab through the traffic. Down Ludgate Hill to Cannon Street, down east Cheap and Great Tower Hill past Beer Lane and Jenny’s old flat. They rounded the Tower of London at speed, and continued eastward without pausing. Jenny recognized the area around the London Docks, but the cart kept heading further east. Three times the Doctor almost caught them, and twice they almost lost the cart.

They finally lost it for good in the tangled streets near the West India Docks. While the Doctor wanted to keep looking, it was almost four o’clock and the sun was setting. Jenny wanted them, and the expensive cab and horse they’d ‘borrowed’ back west of the Tower and out of the East End before sunset. By her guess they had less than twenty minutes to get there. 

Luckily the Doctor listened to reason. Well, sort of. “We’ll need to come back tomorrow and search more thoroughly.”

“Don’t recommend it Doctor. This area’s pretty dangerous, even in the daytime.”

“We can’t just give up.”

“Not saying we should. I have some friends near here who can help. We’ll visit them tomorrow.”

“Friends?”

“Yes Doctor,” Jenny grinned up at him. “Tomorrow we'll go and see Robin Hood and his Merry Men!” 

***

That evening after they'd returned the horse and cab, and after supper The Doctor and Jo read while Jenny hid in the kitchen, and finished a very important letter...

***

 _Monday, November 7, 1881 - London_

_Hello Madame Vastra,_

_There’s been some interesting goings on here since you left. On November 5 after dark, our Wiggins spotted what he called ‘some fiery things’ fall near the Ludgate Hill Station. As it was Guy Fawkes Eve (in case you forgot) not many people saw it with all the other fireworks and bonfires and all that. Wiggins knows that you like to be told about such things, so he tracked them down. Turned out their there were three, well Wiggins calls ‘em ‘pea-pods.’ And they hatched killers! He come and got me instead of following them. He’s still a bit young to be taking on monsters on his own. To bad, though, cause we lost them. So we’re looking for them real careful like._

_Now t’other bit of news. Your friend the Doctor turned up. Trouble is, he doesn’t seem to know you. He’s really chatty, and a bit of a Dandy. He's got a lady assistant with him, Miss Josephine Grant. She don’t know you either, she says. Not sure what to make of her. She talks like a lady, but she’s really different from you or Doctor Garrett. Not a bad sort though, and she's really pretty. She’s trying to be friendly with me. And she tossed a man on his back when he tried to grab her! But she’s still a toff, so I'm being careful._

_I’ve got them staying at Paternoster Row as they lost their carriage. Or box. Or ship. The story keeps changing a bit. They seem to think it wandered off by itself, but they say it didn’t have a horse. Sounds daft to me._

_And we hit a bit of a snag in looking for the pea pods I told you about earlier. Someone stole all of them. Touchwood College is the only name we have for them and no one’s heard of them. Which ain’t surprising, as they have some funny beer that makes men forget things after one or two sips. The Doctor and me chased a pair of them with the pods, but lost them near the Isle of Dogs. Mr Parker wasn't at the yard when we took the cab back. Bet he's gonna have something to say about almost stealing it though. Not looking forward to that._

_The Doctor’s a mad man, he wants to hang out in the East End in his fancy clothes and try to find them. Told him not to be daft. Still have some friends in the area, so I’ll get him sorted out.  
Hope you’re staying well. Glad to hear the weather’s nice sometimes. Please don’t get hurt._

_Best wishes,_

_Jenny_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I don't suppose you have anything 'lighter' to read?" The Doctor was hiding behind/reading a summer 1981 Beano magazine in 'The Rings of Akhaten.' Young Folks Magazine is probably right up his alley. The 'pirates' story Jenny likes is the original serial version of 'Treasure Island' by Robert Louis Stevenson, published weekly between 1 October 1881 and 28 January 1882.
> 
> A 'Teatotaller' is a late 19th/ early 20th century expression used in the English-speaking countries for a person who did not drink alcohol. 
> 
> In the late 1980's the Isle of Dogs and the West India Docks were redeveloped by a Canadian company as the Canary Wharf Project. Fans of another BBC series may recognize 'Touchwood College' (yes their proper name will come out soon) and their base at what in the future will be 'One Canada Square.'


	4. Tuesday Nov 8 to Tuesday Nov. 15

On Tuesday morning Jo Grant found Jenny in the kitchen wrapping up a neat bundle of fabric in paper and string. “Good Morning Jenny. Are you going out?”

“Yes Miss Jo. I've errands to run.”

Jo watched Jenny putter around the kitchen for a few minutes. The girl easily handled the big gas stove as she cooked bacon in a frying pan and toasted bread in an old fashioned metal contraption that sat on the stove and needed to be watched carefully. Jo remembered seeing one years ago in her grandmother's kitchen. 

“Have you been with Madame Vastra for long?” Jo asked.

Jenny shook her head. “Just since last March. Not even a year yet.”

Jo was surprised. The way the girl was moping around from time to time, she’d thought the two had been mistress and maid for far longer than that. 

“You seem to enjoy being a maid, although you’re not like any servant I’ve ever met,” said Jo, thinking of her uncle’s very proper butler. Good old Alfred!

“Not all of us are born lucky enough to have many choices, miss, and it's better work than making matches. If I don’t want to live on the streets, I need to learn some skills.” Jenny eyed the young toff for a moment, and decided not to mention some of more unusual things that she’d been taught. “Madame Vastra’s been kind, and I’ve learned lots about observing people and listening careful like and how to think things out, which are skills she thinks are useful. But if she decides to stay where it’s warm, I’ll be looking for a new place quick enough. So I best learn what folks round here are willing to teach me, even when Madame’s away.”

Jo looked up, catching the girl’s unhappy tone. She wanted to reassure her, but held her words, as Jenny knew her mistress far better than Jo did. Jo could only guess at what the woman would do. Still, she couldn’t see anyone with a grain of sense tossing the young girl in front of her out on the street; more likely Jenny would receive a letter of instruction to join Madame Vastra in Egypt, or at least a letter of reference. 

"You said that your luck had changed this year. What did you mean?" she asked.

Jenny looked over at her for a moment but then shook her head. "Never mind miss. Doesn’t matter. Now, would you like your eggs boiled or fried this morning?"

There was a story here, Jo suspected, and she wondered why Jenny was so cagey about her past. But she knew not to push just yet, so all she said was, "Fried, please."

***

After breakfast, Jenny’s first errand was to post her letter. As the weather was rather nice for November, Jo Grant went along for the walk. She looked around the street with interest, taking in the mix of bookshops, a tearoom or two, several townhouses beside Madame Vastra’s, and even a doss house in the next block with a sign advertising Beds for ‘4p a night for single men only.’ For Jo, one of the most startling things was how busy the area north of St. Paul’s was in this time. She knew that much of it was destroyed in the Second World War, still far in the future from 1881, and even in her time, thirty or forty years after the war, the area was still only just beginning to recover.

Jenny led them to the nearby post box. To her surprise, a tall thin man with a postman’s hat was just opening the pillar’s door, and putting the mail inside into a bag.

“Bit early today, aren’t you?” Jenny asked. "I almost missed you!"

“Oh, don’t mind me; I’m new on the route; still getting the times down I’m afraid,” explained the man with a bounce and a grin. He winked at Jo, “Nice to see you again! You look wonderful as always!”

“You must have mistaken me for someone else, I’m afraid,” said Jo. “I’m just visiting…”

“Oh I never forget a face, but that’s neither here nor there... Now, if you have anything for the post, maybe a letter or even a parcel I can take it along. Parcels are wonderful of course, and so are post cards….”

Jenny frowned slightly; the man’s air didn’t seem right for someone who would be trudging over half the City of London; he was almost bouncing on his toes. Then she shrugged to herself and handed over the letter. If he was happy with his work, who was she to argue with that. The postman glanced at the address on the letter and nodded. “Egypt! Lovely and warm there right now, although the nights get quite cool you know. Well, that shouldn’t take too long to deliver.” He grinned at them again and waved. “Have a wonderful day ladies!” 

“Thank you!” said Jenny and led Jo off to their next stop at Mrs Mandelstam's flat, to get Jo measured up for a change of clothing, and drop off some fabric she’d bought the other day. Jenny thought it would make a nice shirt or two for Madame. But she continued to turn over the puzzle of the bouncing postman in the back of her mind. There was something about him that seemed almost familiar. Something about his eyes...

***

While Jo and Jenny were out, Jo’s Doctor, being a bit of a nosy parker, decided that it was time to investigate his absent hostess. He tested the door of the bedroom suite at the front of the house, and to his surprise, found it unlocked.

He poked his head in, and carefully looked around. The suite had a small lobby, with access to a bathroom, and a dressing room. In the bedroom proper, the first thing he noticed was that everything was clean. It was likely Jenny came in and tidied up now and then. The fireplace was neatly laid with coal and kindling, and the bed was made and ready to use. Several blankets were placed at the foot of the bed, but the Doctor did not find this surprising, as the fall weather in London could be cool and rainy. He walked in quietly, even though he was sure Jenny was still out with Jo.

The room was large, but there not a great deal of furniture in it. A big bed and a nightstand, a chest of drawers, some chairs, and a small table with books was all is contained. There were doors to the rest of the suite; the dressing room and a walk-in wardrobe.

Sitting on top of the chest of drawers was peculiar object. The Doctor picked it up and carefully examined it. It appeared to be a mask. Or to be correct, it seemed like part of a mask moulded in a rather reptilian face.

While at first glance the mask gave the impression of being made of metal, with a large black glass eye and a deep scratch on the surface of the mask, just under the eye. On closer inspection though, the material proved to be different from what he expected. Some combination of metal and advanced plastics perhaps? The Doctor examined it carefully, tapping it, trying to gently flex it, even going so far as to give it a careful sniff, but so far as he could tell without more elaborate equipment, the material was from Earth. Not from Victorian England, perhaps, but quite possibly from Earth. He turned it over, but the inside of the mask was blank. 

“How very interesting,” he murmured.

There was a chair that looked comfortable for reading placed between the two front windows, to take advantage of the light, and there were several books piled on the small table. And a notebook. And even more intriguing, a red coloured pencil.

The Doctor picked up one of the books, a science text, and leafed through it. Several pages had notes in the margin, but one section, on ‘Miasma Theory’ was covered in red marks, corrections and occasional increasingly sarcastic comments.

The one that startled him most was “How can the ~~ap~~...idiots believe this nonsense!?! Have they never heard of germs?” 

The Doctor frowned. Germ theory was not unknown at this time, but it wasn't widely recognized either. Obviously the lady of the house was either very well informed... or possibly ahead of her time. Or equally possibly, trapped behind where she should be. Which would explain her young maid being familiar with the concept of a paradox.

He glanced at the mask on the dresser and then back to the book in his hand, and frowned. 

Who exactly was Madame Vastra?

***

Jenny and Jo returned from their walk and found a cab and a note waiting at the house. Jenny had sent a note earlier with one of the local boys asking Mr Parker to send a cab, but a different note came back, delivered by a young, nervous cabby that Jenny recognized as the one who'd laughed at her when they had to deal with the Fenian bombers. He wasn't laughing now, and he was very polite. But he had orders, so he took The Doctor and Jenny to visit the cab yard first. Jenny had simply sighed, “Well, time to pay the piper for yesterday’s mischief.”

Mr Parker was waiting for them in the stable yard. He nodded easily to them both and said, “Jenny, go and see Mr Thompson and Hotspur. You’ll want to make sure Hotspur is all right after yesterday’s run.”

To the Doctor’s surprise, Jenny took a deep breath and glanced first at him, then at Mr Parker. “The Doctor’s my responsibility while Madame Vastra’s away. I should stay with him.”

Mr Parker shook his head. “I know that Jenny, he’s Madame’s guest. But he’s an adult, and he needs to understand some things if he’s going to have any more cabs from this business. Agreed?” 

Jenny hesitated and glanced at the Doctor. He nodded, and Jenny bobbed a quick curtsey to the men, and hurried off. 

The Doctor shook his head in amusement. Imagine being so staunchly defended by a slip of a girl! She was as bad as Jo! He turned back to the cabbie, who’d been watching his reaction to Jenny, and while his face was still, the man didn’t look the least bit amused.

“My good sir…” started the Doctor.

“Save it,” growled Mr Parker, still keeping a placid look on his face. The old sergeant recognized a man who sorely needed a dressing down when he saw one. “I don’t care who the hell you are or where the hell you came from, but guest of Madame Vastra or no, I’ll tell you this right now: If one of my cabs is damaged due to your actions, you’ll either pay for it in cash or I’ll take it out of your hide. If one of my horses or men are injured by your actions, you’ll pay for any lost wages to the man, and any damages to the cab, AND I’ll take it out of your hide as well. And finally if that young girl is hurt and it happens because you didn’t bother to listen to her, or because of your actions…” and here Mr Parker’s placid face split in a thunderous scowl as he stepped in close and lowered his voice to a deep snarl, “you should be aware that in addition to me there’s a number of full-grown men and several rather daunting women who are pretty fond of her, and any and all of us will be very happy to make sure that when we’re finished, you won’t have a square inch of hide left to take anything out of ever again. Do we understand each other…sir?” 

The Doctor blinked. “Quite,” he replied quietly.

“Good,” and then Mr Parker’s mood changed again, stepping back and becoming once again a pleasant businessman. “Now Jenny’s note said you needed a ride to the East End?”

*** 

Mr Parker drove them himself, in a proper four wheeled carriage. They collected Jo Grant at the house, and then Jenny asked Parker to take them to the church on Seething Lane, near the Tower of London. It was just around the corner from her old home. She thought it was smarter to go there instead of to the flat. She needed to talk to her friends without the risk of running into her Da. No telling what he might do if he saw her. Beat her, ignore her, or maybe try to sell her again. No better stay clear of Beer Lane.

And it wasn’t as if the Doctor wasn’t pretty easy to see. Or to remember that you’d seen him. And she didn’t want to tip off the coves they were looking for. So she thought that the old church would be a good ruse. They’d look like visitors from out of the area, come to see the churchyard of people beheaded at the nearby Tower. 

But when they arrived at the church, the first words out of the Doctor’s mouth were a surprise.

“Well, well, well. This brings back memories. Do you know where we are Jo?”

“All Hallow’s by the Tower, isn’t it?” asked Jo, peering at the Church’s sign. “Isn’t this suppose to be the oldest church in London?”

“That’s right! My, it’s been years since I was here last. Samuel Pepys and I watched the Great Fire together from that church tower.” He pointed at the tall blocky steeple. 

Jenny looked puzzled. “Don’t remember hearing of any big fire round here Doctor. Least not in the last few years.”

“Well, no. This was some time ago, I’m afraid. Well before you were born…” 

Jenny continued to look at him, puzzled, and then said, “Hang on, you said the Great Fire. You mean the Great Fire of London? Took out most of the city, and half of London Bridge? They told us about that fire in school. It was a hundred years ago, or more!”

“Over two hundred years ago in fact.” The Doctor smiled at her. “I’m a bit older than I look.” 

“Seems to be a fair bit of that going around at these days,” muttered Jenny. She spotted one of the local girls coming out of the churchyard, and waved, then trotted over. They spoke for a minute, then Jenny slipping something into the girl’s hand, and the girl walked away with a smile and a nod.

They waited for almost a quarter of an hour, looking over the churchyard and then Jo heard two voices howling, “Jenny!” Jo looked up just in time to see two young hooligans run up and grab Jenny, one of them crushing her in a bear hug, while the other slapped her back, all of them yelling in their excitement. Jo and the Doctor both started forward in alarm, but quickly realized that Jenny was laughing, and giving as good as good is she got.

“It’s all right,” she called. “These are my friends!” 

“Children?” asked the Doctor. “You’ve brought us to talk to children? When you said ‘The Merry Men” I was expecting someone older.”

“Adults natter too much,” said Jenny confidently. “My friends are the best way to hear things without a lot of talk getting around about what you’re looking for.”

“I see,” said the Doctor. “And the ‘Robin Hood and his Merry Men’ part?”

“Jenny means me, Sir. Well all three of us really,” said one of the boys. 

“Doctor, Miss Grant, this is Robin Hood,” Jenny waved at the youngster who had just spoken, “and Friar Tuck. Most folks call ‘em Tom Cutler and Tucker Bakerson.”

“And Jenny’s Will Scarlet,” added the second boy, who must be Tucker. He was a little shorter and stouter than Tom, and had a dusting of flour on his clothes. Literally a baker’s son, Jo realized.

“Can’t stay long, Father let me come to see you, but I need to get back to the shop right quick. What can Tom and me help you with?” asked Tucker.

“And where’s Madame Vastra,” asked Tom, peering past the others. “Jenny, you haven’t been sacked have you? She was pretty clever and awful brave!”

In a few short words, Jenny quickly caught the boys up on her life, then asked them to pay attention to the Doctor. He described the men they were looking for, the route they’d followed towards the docks, and where they’d lost them.

“That’s pretty far east from here, Doctor,” said Tucker. “Tom’s working some days out at the docks though, so he might see something. And our shop’s on Great Tower Street, the main road to come from there into the city, so I can keep an eye open for them there.” 

The Doctor nodded. It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t a bad start.

***

After enlisting the help of Tom and Tucker, they went to the small match factory near the St Katharine docks where Jenny use to work. There Jenny was greeted with gentler hugs, and no pounding by several of the women and girls. After listening to the Doctor and Jenny, they agreed to keep their ears open and pass along any news to the boys. In light of Jo’s story about the beer, Jenny told them the same thing she’d told the boys; to be careful and listen, but not get caught asking questions by any toffs, whether they knew them or not.

*** 

Parker dropped them off at the house, but spoke with Jenny as to whether the police were involved in looking for whatever they were searching for as well. Jenny confirmed that Constable Palmer, Inspector Abernathy and even Constable Lestrade were ‘up to snuff’ on the case. Parker nodded and said “That’s all right then. Constable Palmer had a good head on his shoulders.”

Jenny settled up with Mr Parker, then unlocked the front door. Jo was struck by the colour, a deep blue that seemed very familiar. But then they were inside, and Jenny left them to settle themselves while she went to fetch the inevitable tea and biscuits.

***

After breakfast on Wednesday morning, The Doctor led Jo down to the kitchen. Jenny was just finishing cleaning up. Jo had offered to help her with the dishes after some of the previous meals, and had been politely but firmly turned down. 

“Are you done, Jenny?” asked the Doctor, “I need to use the kitchen for a while. And do you have any beer in the house?”

“Doctor?” Jenny asked, a suspicious note in her voice. “Bit early for that, isn’t it?”

The Doctor smiled reassuringly. “No cause for alarm, my dear. I just need to have a look at the beer sample Jo brought back the other day, and I’d like some of the local beer to use as a control.”

Jenny looked puzzled, but then her face cleared and she nodded, “Do some of your special science stuff with it? All right Doctor, but…”

“Would you go and buy some? You old enough to buy beer in this time, might?” 

It was Jo’s turn to be surprised. “Can’t be. Jenny, you’re what… thirteen or fourteen at most.”

Jenny nodded, “That’s all right, I can get it for you. Be right back.”

Once Jenny was out of the room, Jo glanced over at asked, “Doctor, I meant to ask earlier, did you notice the colour of the front door here?”

The Doctor looked thoughtful. “Deep blue, wasn’t it?” he asked

Jo nodded. “Almost TARDIS blue. Bit of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

The Doctor frowned. “I’m finding a few too many coincidences around here. Starting with Jenny obviously knowing who I am.”

Jo smiled cheekily at him. “She’s not related to you,by any chance, is she? A long-lost daughter or granddaughter by any chance? Like something out of those adventure stories she likes to read?”

“Don’t be ridiculous Jo!” grumbled the Doctor.

Jo only laughed gently at his put-out look.

***

The Doctor explained that he wanted to analyse the strange brew. He and Jo started pulling out various pots and pans and dishes, trying to jury rig the equipment that the Doctor needed.

Jenny returned shortly, carrying four half pint bottles of beer. “Wasn’t sure how much you needed,” she explained. “I can get more…”

“No this is fine,” smiled the Doctor. “Thank you for your help. I suppose you have other things to do while we work here.”

Jenny looked around the kitchen, her face reflecting her surprise at the shambles they’d created while she was gone.

“Doctor are you sure you wouldn’t…” Jenny began.

“It’s all right, I promise I won’t break anything.” Jo raised an eyebrow at that; the Doctor often broke things rather well when mucking around like this. “Now off you go,” continued the Doctor, “that’s a good girl.”

Jenny looked mulish for a moment, then shrugged and left. Jo thought the girl probably wanted to protest, but was likely too well trained to argue with an adult. 

The Doctor finally assembled the jumble into a state that he was happy with. First he tested the beer that Jenny had brought, making notes on a piece of slate he’d found. Then he tried a small amount of Jo’s beer, but despite trying various tests, seemed to be only partially successful at finding whatever he was looking for.

The Doctor finally gave up, glaring angrily at the items assembled haphazardly over the table. “Blast!” he growled. “This just isn’t working.”

“Why don’t we have a cup of tea, and you can look over your notes.” Jo reached for the kettle, but stopped when she realized it was doing double duty as lab equipment. She sighed to herself. No tea for now, unless Jenny had a spare kettle elsewhere in the house. At least this time, Jo thought to herself, the Doctor hadn’t blown anything up!

***

While The Doctor contemplated what adjustments he needed to make in his plan to convert a Victorian kitchen into a lab for the next round of tests, Jo went to find Jenny, and let her know that it was safe to come back downstairs. As she trudged up the stairs, Jo thought that the townhouse is rather like living on a ladder, walking up stairs and down stairs all the time. 

Jenny had make up the bed and straightened up the Doctor’s room, and was now on the third floor, putting Jo’s room to rights. Jo found her there.

“All done then?” asked Jenny.

Jo shook her head, and in simple words, tried to explain the problems the Doctor was having testing the sample.

Jenny listened carefully, and then shook her head. “Sounds like you need a proper lavatory, Miss Jo. Would that help?”

“A proper lav… oh, you mean a **laboratory**. Yes, that would be a great help, I think.”

“Right, well, let’s go have a look and see if it’ll suit him.”

“You know of someone with a lab? Another one of your friends?”

“No, miss, thought we could have a look at the one upstairs.” Jenny grinned, and led Jo up to the top floor. 

***

They arrived at a heavy door. “This was the Night Nursery on the house plan,” Jenny explained. “But Madame don’t have any children, so she thought it was a good place for a lab.” Jenny tried the door, but the room was locked. "Bother," she grumbled, turning away 

"You don't have the key?" asked Jo, "Did Madame Vastra take it with her?" Maybe Jenny wasn't suppose to go into this room, she thought.

But Jenny shook her head as she headed for the stairs. "No, Madame said that I should have it in case there was an accident with the windows or chimneys or such, and I needed to get in. I just forgot, key's on a hook down in the kitchen. I"ll go get it." It was obvious that she wasn’t looking forward to the long hike down six stories and back.

Jo laughed. "Don’t bother, I can open it." 

"Without a key?" asked Jenny. 

"Oh, yes," Jo said with a grin. "Hang on, I'll show you." She pulled out her set of lock picks, and set to work on the door. She soon had it open.

Jenny looked at Jo, at the lock, and back at Jo. "Could you teach me that?" She asked breathlessly, her face shining with excitement.

Jo had never seen Jenny so excited, but still she bit her lip, suddenly reluctant. "It's not really a suitable skill for a maid, Jenny..." she hedged

"Nor for a young lady, miss." Jenny retorted, then caught herself. “Please?”

"But I've no idea what Madame Vastra will think about teaching you to break into things,” Jo demurred. “I don't want to get you fired."

"Madame won't mind at all! Opening locks will be awful handy for us! I managed to get some chests open a few months ago, what belonged to a pair of bombers, but that was mostly luck. But it helped Madame solve the case. Saved some lives too!"

"Look, I understand that you're interested, I really do. Tell you what, I'll send a note to Madame Vastra and ask her if it’s alright to teach you." Jo felt a bit bad; Jenny was helping them so much, but if she taught the girl something like this without express permission, Madame Vastra might well throw the girl out on the street.

Jenny sighed, but backed off for now. Time enough to try and convince Miss Jo later. Didn’t want her to dig in her heels too much, or she’d never agree.

But what a wonderful thing to know!

***

With the door open, Jo could see why Madame Vastra had built a laboratory in the nursery on the top floor. The room had several large windows, and Jo knew she would always remember sunlight gleaming off the beautiful pieces of laboratory equipment. There was a small brass and steel microscope, and a set of scales on a mahogany base with ranged brass weights. There were several instruments in brass and copper and silver and iron that Jo couldn’t even begin to recognize. There was even a set of chemicals in a lovely mahogany and brass box, which looked like it could be closed up into a portable lab. Jenny showed her the scullery that was attached to the room, which had running water if needed. 

Jo thought it was wonderful, and just what the Doctor ordered. And then realized that there was a problem. “Oh dear,” said Jo, “I guess we still need to go all the way downstairs to tell the Doctor to come up here anyway, don’t we?”

With a chuckle, Jenny pulled on a lovely, heavy ribbon in the corner. “Maybe he’ll come up to us.” she said with a grin. 

Jo eyed it for a moment, then grinned as well, and said, “Let me try something. Usually The Doctor never listens to a word I say. I wonder if he finally will?”

*** 

Down in the kitchen, the Doctor looked up when a bell started ringing nearby. He found the culprit in the Servant’s Hall. There were several bells, and this one was marked with a red label ‘Top Floor - Practical Research Room - Go Immediately!’

The Doctor blinked in surprise. The bell continued ringing. After a moment, the rhythm changed. A slow clang, followed by several quick sharp rings, a pause, a sharp ring, a slower one, and so on. The Doctor suddenly recognized it as Morse code. It simply said “Bring beer” over and over.

‘All right, all right,” he muttered, grabbing the samples and the slate with his notes so far and starting up the back stairs. “Let’s see what mischief you two are up to this time.”

***

Even the Doctor had to admit that lab was worth the hike. However, when he started to make shooing noises this time, Jenny put her tiny foot down and insisted that she would remain while the Doctor worked to 'keep an eye on Madame's property.' Jo was amused; apparently Jenny felt the kitchen wasn't as valuable as the lab. Given the lovely and delicate looking equipment neatly stowed throughout the room, Jo though that Jenny had a very good point.

The Doctor allowed Jenny to stay, on the condition that she not bother him. Jenny found a stool out of the way and watched him analyse the beer, listening as he asked Jo for various pieces of equipment and chemicals. They'd searched around and laid out everything before the Doctor started, and Jenny was impressed that Jo seemed to know exactly when to hand the Doctor what he needed with only a few words. And that the Doctor added more notes to the slate, eventually covering both sides.

"How every interesting," said the Doctor, rubbing his chin. "It's definitely from earth, but I haven’t seen this particular combination before. Jo, you said the men started to forget almost immediately?"

"That's right. It didn't seem to affect them any other way. They didn't seem sleepy or drunk. They just couldn't remember anything that had happened in the last half hour or so."

"Curiouser and Curiouser. Why would a group of investigators want the men to forget?" 

Jo shrugged. "If those pods did come from space, maybe they don't want people to panic?"

"It's going to make things harder for us though. We're chasing two groups now; the aliens from the pods and the group that took those pods. Let's hope Jenny's friends hear something soon."

“But Doctor, how will we find the aliens. Except for Wiggins, no one’s even seen them!”

“At some point Jo, I suspect that they’ll show up again!”

***

The Guardsman on duty at the entrance to the Houses of Parliament huddled a little deeper into his greatcoat. A stiff wind was coming off the Thames, and even though it was keeping the air clear, it was bone-chilling cold. 

The Guard heard footsteps, and looked up to challenge the newcomer, stopping as he recognized the man walking towards him on the pavement. It was Mr. Disraeli, the former prime minister, and long-time leader of the Conservative party. His voice turned respectful.

"Good Evening, Milord." 

The man nodded, and walked stiffly past.

The Guard returned to his lonely watch, idly thinking about the encounter to be included in his report. It took the guard a moment to realize that there was a problem. The man he'd seen shouldn't be here.

"Corporal of the Guards!" he shouted.

Mr Gladstone was the Prime Minister now. Benjamin Disraeli had died more than six months ago.

He’d just seen a ghost.

***

Thursday was rainy, cold and grey. Jo was surprised how much she just wanted to stay in bed, nestled under the blankets. But all too early, she heard Jenny up and about in the room next door. When Jo herself wandered down to the dining room an hour later, to allow time for Jenny to get breakfast started, she found the Doctor sitting at the dining room table with tea and toast in front to him, and Tom sitting stiffly nearby, wringing his hat in his hands and looking very uncomfortable. As soon as he saw Jo, he sprang to his feet, and nodded politely as she entered the room, and the Doctor, swung round from his seat, and not to be outdone in manners by a young cockney, stood as well, saying, “Ah, there you are Jo! You’re just in time. Young Tom here has some news for us.”

“Well, it’s really just all rumours right now, sir. Tucker ain’t seen anything unusual on the road past his store, but little Nancy at the match factory... you remember her Jenny?”

Jenny was at the sideboard, ladling out two bowls of steaming porridge. Beside her sat two plates with eggs and sliced ham. Jo grinned, a nice hot breakfast would be just the thing today. The Doctor held her chair while she seated herself, and then sat as well. Jo poured herself a cup of tea, and topped off the Doctor’s cup as well.

At Jenny’s nod, Tom continued, but didn’t sit back down. “Nancy says her brother saw a couple of swells hanging out near the West India Docks, out near Greenwich. Thought they weren’t dressed right for the place. Not labourers or clerks, nor the nabobs either. He didn’t think they fit right. Rest of the place seems to think they’ve got something to do with surveying or inspections for repairs, but no one was really sure why they were there. He’s seen ‘em a few times, Nancy says. The girls are going to ask around a bit more, but quiet like, as you asked. Might see if I can get some work out near there myself.”

“Hmmm. That’s very vague, I’m afraid,” frowned the Doctor.

“Sorry that’s it’s not more to go on.” Tom looked unhappy.

“Not your fault young man!” The Doctor beamed at him. “At least we have some sort of a clue. What do you think Jo? Fancy a trip out to the Greenwich Observatory, by way of the Docks?”

“Rather rainy for it today, isn’t it Doctor?” asked Jo. “Surely anyone with sense will keep indoors.”

“What better time for for someone who’s up to no good to sneak around? And what better time for us to catch them at it?” 

Jo sighed but nodded, and reached for a little pot of honey on the table to sweeten her porridge. 

“Shall I send a note around for a carriage, Doctor?” asked Jenny.

“Yes, please. If your Mr Parker is still speaking to me.”

Jenny nodded, and after making sure there was plenty of tea in the pot for them, bobbed a curtsey, and then led Tom out of the dining room through the service closet to the back stairs. 

When Jo could no longer hear their footsteps she grinned at the Doctor and murmured, “I see we’ve been exiled from the kitchen today. Jenny’s not going to risk a repeat of yesterday’s invasion, I take it.”

The Doctor grinned back. “”I think she just wants to catch up a bit with her young friend. I think he wasn’t happy at the thought of eating with us. We’re a bit too Upstairs for him, I suspect.”

Jo nodded. “I keep forgetting how very class-conscious the Victorians were. I mean ‘are.’ And the working class enforced it as much as the gentry. Jenny will make sure he gets fed for his troubles though.”

“Is it my imagination, or does that young man have trouble keeping his eyes off her?” asked the Doctor as he nibbled on his toast.

“Now Doctor. Are you turning into a romantic?”

“Well, it’s nice to know that she’s not alone in London when we leave if neither Madame Vastra or Dr Garrett have returned.”

***

Mr Parker sent a non-descript carriage, and their driver from the other day, who Jenny called Mr Thompson. The man was well bundled up against the cold and the rain, but Jo still felt very sorry for him sitting out with even the slightest cover.

They spent several cold, damp and fruitless hours driving around the eastern docks. But while there was plenty of activity even on a miserable day like this, they saw nothing that looked out of place. The one spot they had trouble was at the entrance to the West India Docks, close to where the Doctor and Jenny had lost the cart a few days before. Despite the weather, or perhaps because of it, the roads in the area were packed with traffic, and after sitting in a snarl of wagons and carts for an hour without getting close to the entrance gate, the Doctor called off the search with nothing to show for it.

***

That evening after dinner, Jo and the Doctor enjoyed a warm fire in the library and a hot pot of tea. They were looking over a large map of London, paying close attention to the dock area. Jenny joined them after she finished the dishes, fidgeting a bit. After a moment she nodded to herself and spoke up. 

“Doctor, Miss Grant, ummm, I have lessons tomorrow morning, first thing. Madame Vastra arranged them for me with Mr Parker and one of his friends. I won’t be here for breakfast, but I can leave out something light. I’ll be back in time to make dinner for noon though, honest.”

The Doctor nodded. “That’s fine Jenny. If Madame Vastra trusts Parker, then I have no objection at all.”

Jo grinned smiled. “That’s sounds super! I didn’t think most maids learned to drive a carriage or ride a horse!” 

Jenny looked surprised, then thoughtful. “That would be good to learn too. Probably pretty helpful as well. I’ll ask Madame what she thinks when she comes back.” Jenny suddenly look a little lost. “If she comes back, that is.”

Jo wanted to ask what Jenny’s lessons were then, if not about horses, but the girl looked so unhappy, Jo challenged her to a game of draughts instead, leaving the Doctor to plot and plan.

***

Friday morning, Jo slept in. She never even heard Jenny leave. After their light breakfast, Jo and The Doctor took another carriage ride out east, but just to Aldgate Station. It was still cloudy outside, but at least the rain had stopped. They boarded the London and Blackwell line train this time, and disembarked at the West India Dock Station. This was near where The Doctor and Jenny had lost the cart. There was a gate, and a ditch, and a perimeter wall running parallel to the railroad tracks, which headed further east. While the traffic was still heavy, at least now they could walk through the gate.

The gate guard accepted their story about the Doctor being an inspector visiting the local schools. It caught Jo by surprise to learn that the Doctor had seen that there were communities of dockers and their families living in the walled area, complete with schools and churches. So being a school inspector (and his assistant) made for a good cover story.

Inside the wall, designed to keep the valuable goods in the dock warehouses from being stolen, Jo looked around nervously. The docks were bustling. There were several ships in the docks, a mix of steamers and sailing ships, most being unloaded. There were also an awful lot of men looking them over; dockers, stevedores, and sailors of various types. The pair of them stuck out like sore thumbs. Again Jo felt the difference between this London, and that of her own time. Even in the late fall, these docks were busy and full of ships. In her time, the docks weren’t used as much, competing with newer places elsewhere that could hold larger ships. There was even talk of perhaps shutting the London docks down. But here and now, there was no shortage of shipping.

This part of the docks was a vast area. There were several long warehouses. Signs by the roadway pointed in various directions: Import Dock, Export Dock and South Dock. The basins of the docks were huge. Jo guessed that the two closest ones must be over three quarters of a mile long each.

The Doctor snagged a young boy who was walking nearby, “What are those buildings?” he asked, pointing at the line of buildings, almost half a mile long, on the north side of the Import Dock. 

The youngster glanced over, and shrugged. “Sugar and coffee warehouses.” 

“And those?” The Doctor pointed to a long narrow building on the quay between the Import and Export docks. 

“Rum Warehouses.” 

The Doctor nodded. “Thank you. Come on Jo. Let’s take a closer look.” 

The coffee and sugar warehouses were built of brick, and most of it was five or six storeys tall. the southern face wasn’t a solid front, sections were set back in a pattern to give some relief to the eye. The roof was copper, and the windows were cast iron. On the lower storeys, every section of the window had a large spike on each of the four side pointing into the centre of the pane to act in place of bars. It all looked rather frightening and very secure.

The Doctor and Jo walked steadily through the bustling dockers, looking over the building. From time to time they could see the sacks of coffee and hogsheads of sugar through the windows, or stacked on the wagons that rumbled in and out of the large doors. 

“The dockers keep watching us, Doctor.”

“Hmmm? Oh! Probably making sure we don’t make off with any of the goods Jo. Why else would they care, hmmm?” 

***

The quay on the south side of the Import Dock was know as the Rum Quay, and in the centre, linking the Rum Warehouses, was Number 12 Warehouse. It was a three-storey building, seventeen bays long with four loophole bays. Part of the first floor was a rum bottling plant. The top floor was used to store grain, and a corrugated-iron and timber gangway on tall cast-iron columns loomed over the Rum Quay Shed to facilitate handling from the dock and to keep grain away from the bottling. 

However, the vaults below Number 12 Warehouse were kept locked. There were murmurings about ghosts, and certainly the night watchmen told many strange tales about the eerie sounds and strange lights they occasionally heard and saw. Other men, who prided themselves on being a little more modern, put the noise down to just the tides and swamp gas. The docks were built on marshy land, some corrosion was bound to happen to the foundations. 

In the bottling plant, were only the most trustworthy men worked, due to the value and portability of the finished product, there was a door marked ‘Private Office.’ No one was really sure what was behind it, but it was used from time to time by men who definitely weren’t dressed as dockers.

‘Inspectors’, ‘Engineers’ or ‘Commissioners of Works’ were the quiet guesses of the men who worked in the plant, and the dockers who worked on the quay. All they really knew was what their gaffers had told them: the gents are doing important work, so don’t ask nosey questions. Those who did were soon looking for new work elsewhere.

So that was that.

As luck would have it, as The Doctor and Jo investigated the Number One and Two warehouses on the north quay, a pair of men emerged from the ‘Private Office’ of Number Twelve. They were dressed better than the dockers; and appeared to be solid middle-class professional men.

As they left the building and walked along the quay, the younger of the two men glanced over at the north quay, and his eye was caught by an amusing scene.

“That man’s quite the fop,” he chuckled, a slight scottish burr in his voice. “Who’s fool enough to wear a red velvet suit and an opera cape during the day, even in London?”

The older man glanced with disinterest across the water as well, and then stopped and looked again.

“This might be trouble, Campbell,” he said quietly. “At this distance I can’t be sure, but I think that young woman was at the railway yards the other day.” He frowned, obviously trying to remember. “There was a boy with her too...”

“I don’t see any boys. What about the man?”

“I don’t remember seeing him. But there was a cab that drew up just as we were leaving and a man was shouting and trying to catch us. That might well be him.” 

“Interesting,” said young Campbell, and flashed a wolfish grin. “If they are hunting us, perhaps we should turn the tables. I doubt they’ve seen anything a loss of recent memories can’t cure.”

“Careful, ” said his elder. “Let them poke around. They’re looking in the wrong place at the moment, so they’re not sure where to look. Don’t tip them off that they’re getting close.” He frowned. “Come to think of it, we lost them in the back streets nearby. What are they doing here?”

The two men exchanged a look. 

“Someone’s been gossiping…” said Campbell.

“Talking too much over a pint, most like,” the other nodded.

“We’ll need to do something about that..” The young man scowled. “Still think we should at least get over there, though. Get a better look at them. In case we need to find them again.”

*** 

While the Doctor and Jo spent their time fruitlessly searching the warehouses on the north quay, the two men strolled closer. As luck would have it though, a dock foreman hailed The Doctor and Jo, “Here, you two! What are you doing here!” Although The Doctor gave voice to a very credible bit of bafflegab about being an Inspector, in the end the foreman, and several of the Dock Police, gently but firmly escorted the pair back to the train station. There, under the watchful eye of the local authorities, the Doctor and Jo took the railway back to Aldgate Station, unknowingly accompanied by Mr Campbell, who had managed to get close enough to at least keep them in sight. At Aldgate they hailed a cab, and Campbell did as well, but he lost his quarry as the traffic snarled and flowed near The Bank of England and the Mansion House.

But Campbell had learned one thing: The pair weren’t from the East End. That was something, at least. 

***

Jenny was back at the house when they returned, and she quietly asked if they’d had a pleasant day. The Doctor simply said they’d been out seeing London. Jenny, who was a bit unsure about telling Madame’s guests that she’d been out taking shooting lessons with Parker and Taylor of the Green Jackets, especially the bit about her wearing trousers while doing so, didn’t ask any more questions, and quickly disappeared, claiming kitchen duties. 

However, after supper, the Doctor and Miss Grant were moping around, so Jenny suggested a walk ‘to blow the cobwebs out of your heads.’ “Maybe we’ll meet some friends as well,” she added mysteriously.

They wandered down the south side of Cheapside, passing the Church of St Mary-le-Bow. Jo was still marvelling at how much London had changed in a hundred years. And how much was still the same. When they crossed the street she recognized both the Bank of England, and the Mansion House, the Lord Mayor’s residence. And the statue of the Duke of Wellington was in the same place as always. Jenny lead them back up the north side of Cheapside. “Want to see where Madame and me use to live?” she asked. They agreed, and Jenny led them to to a garishly decorated storefront marked “The Cheapside Gin Palace.” Jo was shocked, surely Jenny was too young to enter a bar or pub!

But neither Jenny nor the drinkers so much as blinked. Instead, the thin woman behind the bar spotted her and called out “Jenny Flint!” The woman turned things over to the barkeep, and hustled out to greet them. “Thought we wouldn’t see you until Madame Vastra came home.” 

“Hello Mrs Brown! Brought Madame’s guests up to see our old home. Mrs Brown, this is Doctor John Smith and Miss Josephine Grant. Mrs Brown the propri.. properit… she’s the owner of the Gin Palace.”

“Pleased to meet you!” Jo could tell that the woman had been sampling the house gin a bit, but she was still fairly sober. And Jenny seemed to like her.

“Madame Vastra was renting a room here when she saved me in March,” explained Jenny, “and we lived upstairs until we moved to Paternoster Row in August. I worked as a cleaner here as well for a while.” She paused to inspect the long bar counter with an expert’s eye. “Not bad,” she grunted, then glanced at the Doctor and Jo. “Bookstore, he’s one of the Paternoster apprentices, his sister works here now,” she explained.

“And she’s doing quite nicely, since you’ve trained her up properly,” added Mrs. Brown. “Now your gent’s are back in the Snug, Jenny, and I’ll pour a ginger beer for you. What can I get for your friends?” 

Jo asked for a ginger beer as well; and to her surprise the Doctor, at Jenny’s recommendation, settled on a half-pint of Bitter. Mrs Brown said she’d put it all ‘on Jenny’s account’ and that was that. Although Jo did wonder what Jenny was doing with an account at a place that served alcohol.

They took their drinks to the Snug, where two men were sitting on the bench against the wall, with a third seated across the narrow wooden table from them. There was plenty of room, so Jenny led them over. The Doctor and Jo followed her more slowly, unsure of what Jenny was leading them into.

“Evening, sirs!” sang out Jenny, a huge grin on her face. 

“Jenny!” greeted the two men against the wall, standing almost as one. “Doctor, Miss Grant,” chimed in one of them, “I see Jenny found a reason to drag you over to her old haunts!”

Jo smiled as she recognized Inspector Abernathy. The man with his back to them stood up now, and turned, and she recognized Constable Palmer, an incongruous mug of tea on the table in front of him. From the mugs in front of the others they were indulging in beer.

Jenny introduced them to the third man, Mr James Thackeray of the Bank of England. Jo was surprised to see the man slide over and wave Jenny to sit next to him with a mock stern look.

“I sent you a note with Wiggins on Sunday!” said Jenny, although the man hadn’t said anything. The man just pointed at the bench, and Jo saw the other two give indulgent little smiles, then they turned and engaged the Doctor and Jo in conversation. Well, they talked to the Doctor at least. Jo mostly listened, and kept an eye and an ear on Jenny and Mr Thackeray.

From the questioning, conducted gently but firmly, Jo soon realised that Mr Thackeray was acting as Jenny’s guardian while Vastra was away. He’d been travelling himself elsewhere in England on bank business, and his butler had accepted Jenny’s note and forwarded it to him by the mail. Thackeray had just returned to the city that afternoon, or he would have been up at the House straight away, to look over the guests and ensure Jenny was all right. 

What Thackeray didn’t say was that he’d also received notes from Abernathy, Palmer and Mr Parker, that each had met Jenny’s guests and judged them eccentric but nothing Jenny couldn’t handle, and that Parker and his cabbies were keeping an eye on the strangers, as were Wiggins and his gang. No one wanted to see Jenny harmed, and No One wanted to catch hell from Madame Vastra, Mrs Brown or Mrs Crawford if they slipped up in keeping one young maid safe. 

They chatted for a while about London, and the odd crime of the previous weekend. Abernathy and Palmer hadn’t turned up any clues on that, but there was a new problem that was vexing Scotland Yard. “It’s the oddest thing,” said Inspector Abernathy. “We’ve had several, well, not official reports you understand, but we’ve been hearing about people seeing Mr Disraeli several times in the last few days.”

“The former Prime Minister?” asked Jenny. “But there was a big fuss about him back in the Spring. Even I heard a bit about it. He died, didn’t he?”

“Well, yes,” said Abernathy. “That’s what makes it so strange. We wouldn’t be so worried about it if he wasn’t dead, now would we?”

Jo reflected that Mr Parker had said Constable Palmer had a good head on his shoulders. Nothing had been said about Inspector Abernathy. “So you’re looking for a ghost?” she asked, puzzled.

The Doctor just scoffed. “Really Jo. There’s no such things as ghosts.”

Jo frowned. “No of course not, but we’ve seen some strange things in our adventures, Doctor.”

Now, un-noticed by the adults, it was Jenny’s turn to frown. Something was tickling her head. Inside like. But then the adults were nattering again, and she shook it off and listened to them.

“Wouldn’t worry about it, miss,” Constable Palmer said reassuringly. “Probably just some prankster, trying to drag out the Bonfire night fun.”

Both Jo and Jenny frowned a bit at the dismissal, and then caught each other doing it, and shared a quick eye-roll. Men!

They stayed and talked and eventually finished their drinks. Jo was amused to watch the Doctor fence verbally with Thackeray, who naturally enough was trying to find out how they knew Vastra and why they were staying at her house. Jenny chimed in from time to time, covering for the simple truth that really, the Doctor and Jo Grant didn’t know Madame Vastra at all.

***

Back at the house, Jenny got the Doctor and Jo settled in the library with some tea, and then excused herself. 

“Needs to update my notebook,” she explained. “Madame Vastra likes that I writes things down. Reading my notes helps her solve her cases.”

Jenny waved at the bell pull in the corner. “Just ring if you need anything. Two pulls if you just want me to come up, three if you’d like me to bring a fresh pot of tea.”

“And four pulls?” asked Jo with a smile.

“That’s tea with bacon and soft boiled eggs Miss,” said Jenny, returning her grin. “Madame has a fondness for them when she’s thinking.”

They watched her leave, and then the Doctor chuckled. “Well, if nothing else, that just confirmed that Madame Vastra is fairly clever.”

“How do you mean, Doctor?” asked Jo. 

“Getting Jenny to practice her writing by having her write up ‘notes’, of course. Makes the child feel involved.”

Jo looked disappointed. “So it’s just another learning exercise?” 

“Oh Jo, really? Vastra’s just humouring the girl.” He reached for a newspaper, and made himself comfortable in the room’s best reading chair. “Trust me, Jenny’s just a maid with a child’s overactive imagination, and a few too many adults who indulge her in it.” 

Jo looked at him for a long moment, shaking her head as the Time Lord’s arrogance showed itself again.

Honestly, The Doctor could try the patience of a saint some days!

***

Jo woke up early on Saturday morning, and decided to explore a little bit. The house really was quite large, by London standards. To Jo’s amusement, all the doors of the fourth floor at the top of the house were locked, not just Madame Vastra’s laboratory. Which, based on their previous discussion, meant that Jenny had the keys. Jo found it interesting that the locks seemed to be more a safety precaution than an indicator of forbidden territory for the youngster. The Doctor’s opinions aside, that indicated a high level of trust between mistress and maid. Jo could easily pick the locks, of course, but decided to respect their boundaries, at least for now.

Below that was the third floor. Jo and Jenny were sleeping in the two front rooms, and there were two more bedrooms at the back. For now those rooms were being used for storage; there was a great deal of furniture stacked inside. There was a water closet off the entrance to Jo’s room, and another water closet and a bathroom down the hallway connecting the bedrooms. 

On the second floor was Madame Vastra’s suite at the front of the house, and the room where the Doctor was sleeping, in what was normally Jenny’s room. There was a water closet and a bathroom on that floor as well, and from the size of Vastra’s suite, Jo guessed there was also an ensuite attached to those rooms. Jo had been raised with decent manners; she decided not to enter Madame Vastra’s room by herself. Maybe she could get Jenny to show it to her if needed.

On the first floor was the drawing room, and what looked like a potential conservatory. It had a few potted plants scattered about, nothing fancy, but at least an attempt to bring some green into the house. Both rooms ran the full width of the house, and had large windows to let in the light. They also both had two fireplaces, one on each side of the room. 

On the ground floor was the entrance hall, the library and the dining room. It amused Jo that the only way to get to the basement, normally the domain of the servants, was down the backstairs. The grand central staircase started on the ground floor and wound up through the rest of the house; it did not deign to go down below the ground.

Jo, on the other hand, was quite happy to descend to the warm depths of Jenny’s kitchen. Jenny’s friend Tom was visiting, no doubt to catch Jenny up on the news, and so Jo wheedled an early pot of tea from the girl, and quickly went back upstairs, leaving the youngsters in peace once more. 

***

Rupert Dawes was a busy man. In addition to ensuring the day to day running of the Bank of England, and serving on its Court of Directors, he was, like many men of his time, also served on a several boards of philanthropic endeavors of various kinds. This gave him social contact with a number of other senior businessmen in the City, and with many of the nobility as well.

And it was a specific member of the nobility, indeed of the Royal Family itself, which was causing his exasperation this morning, as he enjoyed a cup of coffee at a shop near the Bank of England before the bank opened for the half-day. 

The Prince of Wales to put it mildly, loathed boredom. Although he and his wife, Princess Alexandra, often filled in for Queen Victoria royal public appearances such as the opening of the Thames Embankment in 1871, and the Marylebone Infirmary in Notting-Hill in July of this year, the truth was that his mother did not allow the Prince any active role in the running of the country. This despite the fact that unless he died before her, the Prince would someday become the king. The Prince sat in the House of Lords as the Duke of Cornwall, but had few or no administrative duties. As a result, he spent much of his time on the London social scene, eating, drinking, gambling and acquiring a reputation as a playboy. The whispers about his frequent trips to the brothels of Paris were even more outrageous. However he was, despite all of that, still the Prince of Wales, and was therefore accorded at least some respect.

The Prince’s London home lent it’s name to the notorious Marlborough House Set, the many and varied friends of the Prince. They were also a byword for what could most politely be called “moral laxity.”

In other words, they were drinkers, gamblers and sportsmen and their affairs were numerous, and not particularly discrete. Their wives and mistresses were just as bad. 

But the Prince was also an setter of men’s fashions, and a man who cultivated politicians from all parties, including republicans, as his friends, and thereby largely dissipated any residual feelings against him. 

The Prince had celebrated his fortieth birthday a few days earlier, on Wednesday November the 9th, and Dawes had seen him there, with the Princess at his side. The Prince had greeted him by name, they were on one of the hospital boards together.

Dawes finished his coffee, and headed towards the bank. As he reached it, a well-made carriage drew up nearby, and a large, familiar gentleman stepped down. Dawes recognized him immediately. 

“Good morning, your Highness! This is an unexpected pleasure! To what do we owe the hon...?”

The Prince interrupted him. “Who are you?” he demanded coldly.

Dawes started in surprise. Puzzlement coloured his voice: “Rupert Dawes, Your Highness. I’m on the board of the Marylebon…” 

The Prince turned away, looking bored.

“Your Highness?”

His Royal Highness Albert Edward, Prince of Wales and known as ‘Prince Bertie’ to his friends and behind his back, turned and stared coldly at Dawes for a long moment, and then turned back and walked silently away, entering the Mansion House.

Dawes could only stand there, trying not to let his jaw drop open. The Prince of Wales had just Cut him. What on earth had he done to earn the other man’s ire? 

***

After clearing the breakfast dishes, Jenny found the Doctor and Jo playing a game of backgammon. At a quick glance, Jenny thought Jo was likely winning. 

“Any news from your friends?” asked Jo.

Jenny nodded. “A bit. Tom’s got a job at the docks, starting on Monday. Mostly as a message runner, but he’ll like that. Be easy for him to get around. Which is good, ‘cause the girls were starting to hear some interesting stories, but it all dried up tight last night.” She shook her head. “Tom says there’s something skilamalink about it,” muttered Jenny, half to herself. 

“Pardon?” asked the Doctor.

“Something shady’s going on.” Jenny eyed them sternly. Or as sternly as a barely teenage maid could. “Did you go over to the docks yesterday?” she asked sharply.

“Yes,” replied the Doctor. “We had a good look at some of the warehouses…”

“Walking around, not in a carriage?” They nodded. “Dressed like that?” she waved at their clothes, in Jo’s case far more upper class than Jenny’s own, and in the Doctor’s case, simply far more eccentric, even for Victorian London.

The Doctor frowned. “Of course”

“Well, that explains that. Pardon me for saying so, Doctor, but you stick out like something from a Street Fair, and Miss Grant’s clothes are far too good for the East End. Tom says everyone who works near the West India Docks has clammed up all of a sudden. Probably the blighters you’re looking for put it around that there were strangers on the pitch, and anyone caught talking would be sacked.”

Jo, more familiar with the local cant, nodded in understanding, and the Doctor looked rather abashed. “But surely the dock needs workers…” he protested. 

“Winter is coming,” Jenny explained. “The docks won’t be as busy as the rest of the year, so fewer men are needed. If they don’t work, they don’t get paid. Simple as that. Families can’t live on air. So the last thing anyone wants is to not be called into work.” She shook her head, and then sighed. 

“Well, it can’t be helped now,” grumbled Jenny. “You’ll need to stay away for a bit, and let Tom, Tucker and the girls see if they can coax folks back into talking with them. But no more trips to the Docks unless we get you proper clothes! You’ve got someone spooked and no mistake!”

“Which means,” pointed out the Doctor, “that there’s something out there they don’t want outsiders to find!” 

***

Sunday was sunny, which was a nice change. Jo wanted to see St Paul’s Cathedral,and hear a full sermon with the choir at least once while they were here. The Doctor declined to join her, immersing himself in the library instead. Jenny put on her best dress, and went along for the morning service, even though she said she and Madame Vastra rarely went to church. “Can’t let you go alone though,” Jenny explained. “Even I know respectable young ladies don’t wander around by themselves, Miss.”

The sermon was about ‘family.’ Jo didn’t remember all that was said, but she rather enjoyed it. And the choir was very good. Jenny was very quiet throughout the service. She stood when she needed to, and knelt when the congregation kneeled in prayer, but Jo noticed that she didn’t join in the hymns, or the responsive reading. And during the sermon, Jenny kept her head bowed. 

After the sermon, Jo noticed that Jenny’s eyes were red and the normally cheerful girl seemed very sad. Suddenly Jo realized what the problem was. Jenny had never mentioned her family. Was she an orphan that Madame had taken in as a servant? And now even that tenuous bit of family was far, far away and Jenny was left alone in London with a couple of strangers as guests.

Jo could have kicked herself for her short-sightedness, in both senses of the term. She’d hoped to cheer Jenny up. All she seemed to have done was made the girl feel even more aware of her loneliness.

***

On Monday Jenny did the washing, and since it was a sunny but cold day, hung it up in the back terrace, between the house and the coach house to dry. Then she headed out to shop for food for the next few days. While she was out, she also bought several papers, including the London Daily News. Madame always liked to have several papers around; she said it gave her different points of view amongst the Apes. Jenny had a nice stack saved up for her. She looked through them herself from time to time, but a lot of what they talked about didn’t make much sense to Jenny. She knew there were all sort of things that she still had a lot to learn about. 

While Jenny was out shopping, the Doctor and Jo walked over to the central City of London Police Station to visit Constable Palmer, but he had no news for them either. They missed the young man, well-dressed in a way that suggested an educated professional, who was reading on a bench near the Mansion House, and who followed them at an easy distance up to the police office. There, while they met spoke with Constable Palmer in a small office, out of the way of prying ears, the man asked a few simple questions of the desk constable, and wandered back out again.

It was only by luck that the Doctor and Jo decided to use a different door when they left, so they could take a back route to see the nearby Guildhall, and so accidently evade the man watching the front door for their exit. They followed back streets as they returned to Paternoster Row, looking in alleys and closes to see if they could find the TARDIS hidden somewhere. But it was still nowhere to be found. 

And to Jenny’s annoyance, Constable Lestrade dropped by in the afternoon, poking around and asking questions, but with nothing to show that he’d done any work looking for the missing pods himself. 

And the man called Campbell waited in vain for his quarry. But he’d at least learned the name of the policeman they’d spoken to. 

***

Evening found the Doctor and Jo back in the library, catching up on reading the newspapers. They seemed to be doing a great deal of that, though Jo, and on a whim she turned to the theatre column. If they were going to be stuck here for a while, then maybe they could see a famous actor or catch the debut of a new play. It wasn’t as if they could go catch a rock concert, after all!

There was mention of several productions, in London, Paris and even Edinburgh, where apparently the University students had disrupted a performance of the ‘Merchant of Venice.’ 

“I love the marvelously old fashioned language the papers use!” she told the Doctor. “Listen to this: ‘A slight accident which we understand happened to the electric lighting at the Savoy Theatre last Monday served to test the efficiency of the precautions adopted. Owing to some easily remedied defect, a few of the electric lights went out for a short time, but the rest remained burning, and there was not even necessity to turn on the gas in the central sunburner.’ ”

“What on earth is a sunburner?” asked Jo.

“A large chandelier,” explained the Doctor. “That’s interesting, I knew they installed the lights when the theatre opened in October; the Savoy’s was the first theatre in the world to be lit entirely by electricity.” He frowned, “I seem to recall they had some trouble with it though for the first few months. Not enough power of something...”

“Last Monday was the Seventh, right?” asked Jo. “It’s hard to believe we’ve been here over a week already, isn’t it?” 

“But still no sign of the TARDIS,” said the Doctor. “Well, at least no one’s hunting us this time.”

“At least not that we know of,” sighed Jo. “I’m rather worried about Jenny’s friends though, if there really is something hidden in the docklands.” 

***

Vastra's second letter arrived the next day, on Tuesday November the fifteenth. Its arrival was announced by enthusiastic knocking on the front door door. Jo shook her head, there were far too many people who knew that she and the Doctor were there, and the house was almost becoming popular. Jo decided to spare Jenny the hike, and opened the door herself.

The tall, thin postman they’d met a week before was there, his hand raised for another round of knocking, and a huge silly grin on his face. “Oh, splendid!” he said. “I was so hoping to see you again.” He handed over a thick letter. 

“That’s for Jenny, of course. Took Vastra long enough to write it,” the man grumbled good naturedly. “Now mind you tell Jenny to read all of it, and then write up a nice long letter with all the important bits about what’s happening here! I’ll meet her at the postbox in a few days, and we’ll get delivered it to Egypt in a jiffy!”

The postman grinned at her, and then darted off. Jo watched him for a moment, shaking her head, and then shut the door. What on earth was the Royal Mil feeding its Posties these days? And could she bring it back to her time. She turned to find Jenny running down the stairs to see who was at the door. Jo handed over the letter with a grin as the girl skidded to a stop on the polished floor. “I think that postman likes you,” she said. “He was very firm that I give that to you right away!”

Jenny tore open the envelope and found both a letter, and a smaller envelope which was addressed to ‘The Doctor and Miss Grant.’ 

The Doctor ambled out of the library and joined them. “Ah, Madame Vastra received your telegram, I see,” he said. “Very good.” He knew that a letter mailed last Tuesday from London would certainly still be in transit to Egypt a week later. Therefore, Madame Vastra could not possibly have received Jenny’s letter yet.

Jenny turned over the separate, sealed piece of paper in her hands. She'd love to know what it said but she was smart enough to know that if she was caught snooping, none of the adults would be pleased. She handed over the note to the Doctor immediately, so to save herself from getting into mischief. This time. Then she fidgeted for a few moments; desperately wanting to read her letter, but knowing she should wait to be dismissed.

Jo took pity on her. “Go on, sit down and read your letter,” she said kindly. “Everything else can wait for a bit.” The girl grinned her thanks, and darted away.

***

Snug in the warmth of the kitchen, Jenny finally unfolded her letter, and read: 

_Friday November 11  
Somewhere in Egypt, near the Nile River_

_Hello Jenny,_

_I was most interested to learn that The Doctor has finally put in an appearance. It’s just like the man to lose the TARDIS, he seems to do it often enough. Well done for remembering and following your instructions; offering The Doctor and Miss Grant accommodations at the house was exactly the correct thing to do._

_While I have not had the opportunity to meet Josephine Grant, I recall that she has a reputation for being what her people called ‘a free spirit.’ Take advantage of her being, as you call them, a toff, one who also has a sense of adventure; and learn from her whatever she is able to teach you. Etiquette, elocution and perhaps some of her more… surprising talents. If I remember correctly, she received considerable training from the organization she works with before she became The Doctor’s assistant, and some of those skills might intersect nicely with your own interests. I mentioned this in the note that accompanies this letter, so I expect you to take advantage of the short time you likely have with such an excellent source of instruction._

_I am very interested in your mention of Wiggins and the Pea-Pods. I’ve heard of similar items before, in connection with the Doctor. I cannot recall the details, however. Be sure to provide any additional information as quickly as you can. It will make an interesting distraction from my current hunt. Be sure to give the enclosed note to the Doctor._

The letter continued, and Jenny read it through carefully, occasionally sounding out words she didn’t recognize. Madame wrote about the land that had far less rain than London, but which the Nile River flooded each summer to make decent farmland, and about the old ruins where the group she was guarding were working. They’d found a pair of mummies, which disappeared a few days later. Madame said that the locals were frightened, the males most of all. There were stories of some sort of curse to boot! Madame said it was all superstitious nonsense, but Dr Haines from London College was having trouble with the people that he’d hired to help with the work. Only an old widow, who was the camp cook, and her two children stayed with them. Jenny puzzled over that, and decided Madame meant the women’s grand-children; she was still trying to get things like that right. 

Madame was also still trying to find the man that Colonel Lethbridge said the Foreign Secretary had sent out in August. Jenny knew a bit about that, he’d been at the work-site for several weeks in early September, and then disappeared. When no one could find him, the Foreign Secretary had asked Colonel Lethbridge to send Madame Vastra to investigate.

The letter closed with:

_Pay attention to what the Doctor and Miss grant tell you, but remember that Paternoster Row is your home how, and you are to protect yourself and the City of London. As usual. As always._

_Dr Haines showed me how to write my name in short form, and so I will close with,_

_All the best,_

_Mdme Vastra_

***

The Doctor watched the young maid disappear down to back stairs, and shaking his head with amusement, opened the note addressed to Jo and himself, read it through, and then gave it to Jo saying, “Well, the lady of the house certainly thinks she knows us both!.

Jo agreed that their note was certainly blunter than she expected!

_Hello old friend, and hello to Miss Grant as well,_

_No doubt you are confused by my greeting Doctor, but I assure you that it is true. I will further assure you that you and Miss Grant are welcome to stay at Paternoster Row as long as you need to. Jenny will look out for you._

_However, you do need to understand this: I am not asking you to babysit Jenny. If anything, I'm assigning Jenny to... assist you!"_

Jo was amused that the woman had obviously scratched out a second 'babysit' and gone with the more polite ‘assist’ instead. It certainly sounded as if she knew the Doctor, and knew him very well!

_In return, I propose that you both contribute towards Jenny’s education. I believe that Ms Grant has a talent for escapology, especially in picking locks and was also trained by UNIT in unarmed self-defense. Jenny would greatly benefit from instruction in both of those, along with any training you can give her Doctor in Venusian Karate and Aikido. Consider such instruction as a reward for Jenny's help._

_I’m not very familiar with A...English manners, and while I suspect Jenny’s mother tried to teach her some, her family circumstances were far from ideal. If Miss Grant would work with her on what Jenny should know about running the house, it would be good for her. Her curtsey needs some work , I believe, and setting out the dinner table properly would be a help as well… Not that I observe such formalities very often, but I can see where it might be a useful thing to know._

_Jenny has been instructed to continue to assist you. I expect both of you to make her safety of paramount importance. Do not, however try to leave her out of things; she knows more about this London, its brightest highlights and its darkest,deepest places, than either of you do. And she can muster surprisingly effective resources if needed._

_I wish you both good hunting, in finding the answers that you seek._

_Madame Vastra_

***

Well, that answered that, thought Jo with amusement. She didn’t need to send a note suggesting any lessons for Jenny; she’d been practically order to provide them!

Given that they were dependent on Jenny’s good will for their bed and board until they found the TARDIS, Jo had the strong impression that ‘no’ was not a viable answer. And given that Jenny’ enthusiastic interest in learning such new skills, it wasn’t going to be hardship either.

But how on earth had Madame Vastra, who Jo Grant was pretty sure she’d never met, know that she could pick locks? 

And even more troubling, how did she know about UNIT?

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes:
> 
> For my readers: the floor numbers for 13 Paternoster Row use the European system, so Basement, Ground, First Floor, etc. The house contains 6 stories in all, but the top floor is the ‘fourth floor.’’
> 
> “Samuel Pepys and I watched the Great Fire together from that church tower.” Remember that this is the Third Doctor, please. What the Fifth Doctor may or may not have done concerning the Great Fire of London is still in his future...
> 
> Benjamin Disraeli was Prime Minister of the UK in 1868, and again from 1874 to 1880. He died on the 19th of April 1881.
> 
> In England the 1886 ‘Intoxicating Liquors (Sale to Children) Act’ banned the sale of alcoholic drinks to children under thirteen. Before that time, Jenny could have bought either beer or gin easily so long as she had the funds.
> 
> It is one of the amusing mysteries of this series that Number Twelve Warehouse was located as I describe at the West Indies Docks. A review of the buildings in use at the time does not mention a Warehouse 13. 
> 
> The classic "Cut Direct" would be ignoring the person if possible, and if they came over and talked to you, to say "Sir/Ma'am, I do not know you" and walk away. Cut Indirect is to look another way and pass without appearing to observe him. ‘Cut Sublime’ is to look up until the person is out of sight. ‘Cut Infernal’ is to look down (for instance, at your shoes) until the person is out of sight. 
> 
> The description of the incident at the Savoy Theatre is from The Daily News of Monday November 14, 1881.
> 
> And if the mail sounds rather speedy for the time period, and the postman suspiciously familiar... patience please.


	5. November 16 - November 21st, 1881

After breakfast on Wednesday morning, Jenny washed the dishes and did her chores. Around eleven Jo went in search of her, and found Jenny checking the pantry and larder for the mid-week grocery order. “When you’re done, are you ready for your first lesson with me?” She asked, holding up ring of small metal keys. “I thought we’d start with some lock picking today, and then work on the self-defense lessons later in the week.” 

“Makes sense,” said Jenny. “I sent a note to our sewing lady yesterday after you told me what Madame said in her note. Mrs Mandelstam’ll make you up some practice clothes quick enough. They won’t be pretty, but they’ll be nice and sturdy. She knows what Madame and me like.”

“I don’t really know how much I can teach you about self-defence Jenny,” Jo said, a little sadly, as Jenny continued her work. “I’m more apt to talk my way out of things then fight my way out.”

“Madame wouldn’t have said anything if she didn’t think you could teach me a fair bit. She’s funny like that,” Jenny replied easily. She led Jo out of the pantry, and put the shopping list on the kitchen table for later.

“Well, opening locks is fun too,” said Jo. “But first we need some to practice on.” 

Jenny grinned, and led Jo to back to the Housekeeper’s room, tucked between the back stairs and the Servant’s hall. “Found a couple when we were cleaning up the house after we moved in. Two have keys, and one don’t. Keep ‘em in here so I can muck around with them if I’m waiting for something to cook.”

Jenny showed Jo her finds. All three were heavy iron locks, two with old-fashioned warded keys. Well, Jo allowed, they looked old-fashioned to her, as she was so use to modern ‘pin and tumbler’ style of lock. The third one would be a bit more of a challenge, and Jo was looking forward to testing her skills. “Have you had any luck with opening them?” asked Jo.

Jenny held up the smallest lock. “I can open this one with one of the spare keys we have, but it takes me a bit of fiddling,” she replied. “No luck with the other yet.”

Jo took the lock and demonstrated how her picks worked, and how quickly and easily they could open the lock with a little practice. “Which is why better locks, a little harder to pick, are mostly used where I’m from,” she explained.

Once they started, Jo found that Jenny was an excellent student. She paid attention, and followed instructions. She was also patient when one of the locks proved more resistant to opening. 

The third lock, the one missing its key, had a slightly more sophisticated lock, with a keyhole with a pin in the middle. “Right, now this is a lever lock, and the key for it is hollow,” explained Jo. “So you need a different type of pick, called a lever wire. It’s still pretty simple though. You need to match the length of the wire hook to the size of the hole, from the pin to the bottom, see? Too short and it won’t reach the lever inside, too long and it will jam.” Jo demonstrated how to select the hook from her picks, and added, “You can bend a piece of wire to fit too, but that takes a bit of practice. If the wire’s too soft or too thin, it will just bend when you try to use it, instead of opening the lock.”

They practiced a few time on each of the locks, and then Jo let Jenny keep the picks for now. “We’ll need to get you some more locks to practice that on. Next time we’ll see what we can do with the doors,” said Jo. She was very amused at Jenny’s eager nod. She also hoped Madame Vastra knew what she was doing, asking Jo to teach Jenny these skills. Judging by the gleam in Jenny’s eye, there soon wouldn’t be a lock in the house that was safe from Jenny’s curiosity.

***

On Wednesday afternoon, Jenny went upstairs to tend the small collection of plants and Jo and the Doctor settled in to read the day’s papers in the library. A short while later, they were interrupted by a fierce pounding sound. It seemed to come from below their feet. 

“What on earth!?” exclaimed Jo.

“I believe someone is demanding entrance at the kitchen door,” remarked the Doctor wryly, standing up and leading the way towards the back stairs.

“Doesn’t anyone around here knock normally?” asked Jo.

“Here? Not bloody likely,” snorted Jenny as she hurried past them down to the kitchen.

The visitor turned out to be young Wiggins, bouncing on his toes with excitement.  
“‘Ello, Jenny, Doctor, Miss! I found a bit of one of those pods, I did! We’d best go and get it right quick though, ‘afore a guard or some else spots it!”

They grabbed coats and cloaks and followed a very impatient Wiggins, without bothering to hail a carriage or cab. Jenny brought a large shopping basket along. Although it discreetly covered with a piece of chequered cloth, there was a loop of rope peeking out, and Jo wondered with amusement what Jenny was up to.

Wiggins led them through a maze of back streets so they wouldn’t be seen from the railway lands, and then along a narrow path running parallel to the tracks. Jo realized that they weren’t very far from where they’d seen the pods and the guard’s ashes before. But they were approaching it from a different angle. There were small, scrubby bushes here, clinging tenaciously to the hard dirt. Most had lost their leaves to the cool autumn weather, and those that remained on the plants were brown and dry. By a dense tangle of bushes, Wiggins stopped and pointed.

Buried deep in the brush and the ground beneath it was what certainly looked like part of a pod. The alien surface was unmistakable. The Doctor squatted down and examined the piece.

“Must be from the one that smashed up when it hit the shed,” said Jenny. “Looks like it bounced a few times and dug itself in here.”

“Yes, that makes sense,” said the Doctor. “Well done Master Wiggins!” 

Wiggins made a face. “Just Wiggins, sir. Honest.”

Jo saw Jenny slip Wiggins a few coins, and raised an eyebrow. Jenny caught it, and quietly explained. “Madame Vastra pays the local boys and girls if they help us out. She pays a guinea a clue. Mind, Mr Thackeray says the mint hasn’t made guineas for years, but the bank’s got lots in storage, so Madame buys ‘em special. I think she likes the idea of doing something different.”

Jo frowned for a moment, trying to remember where she'd heard of a similar arrangement. The Doctor was quicker. 

“A guinea a clue? Like the Baker Street Irregulars?” he asked, with a distracted air still concentrating on the piece of the pod.

Jenny look confused. “Never heard of them, Doctor. Do they help out with errands too?”

“You mean like holding horses and running messages?” asked Jo.

Jenny shook her head. “Most any of the youngsters around here’ll do that for a few pennies. Wiggins and his lot help Madame Vastra by gathering information and keeping an eye on people. Madame’s from up near Baker Street, maybe she knows them.”

The Doctor looked up at that, and addressed Jenny. “My dear girl, what year is this again?”

Jenny looked up at him like he was daft, but only said, “It’s 1881, sir.”

“1881? Really?” he looked thoughtful. “A few years early yet for the Sherlock Holmes stories. But 1881 is the year that Holmes met Watson. What an interesting coincidence.”

“Watson?” asked Jenny confused. “Who’s Watson?”

“Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson!” crowed the Doctor. “The Great Detective and his chronicler! You keep reading those adventure stories of yours Jenny. In a few years you’re in for a real treat!”

Jo just rolled her eyes. Sherlock Holmes was always too full of himself for her taste. Honestly, she was more of a fan of Irene Adler herself. Now there was a Modern Woman!

***

The pod piece was stuck fast. “We’ll need to dig it out,” said The Doctor. “Wiggins, see if you can find a spade or…” 

Jenny promptly produced a large garden trowel from her basket. “This help?” she asked.

“Just the thing,” nodded the Doctor as he took it. “Now maybe we’ll start to get somewhere!” 

The Doctor and Wiggins started digging, the Doctor digging at the hardened earth with the trowel, and Wiggins scooping aside the loosened dirt. Jenny watched them for a moment but there wasn’t much room to work, she’d just get in the way if she tried to help. So she looked around, to see if she would find another bit of pod in the nearby shrubs. She left Jo on lookout for the Railway Guards, and started to search under the nearby bushes.

With a few minutes, she found something, but it wasn’t a bit of the pod. Least, she didn’t think it was.

There were bits of shredded… well, it wasn’t quite cloth to Jenny’s eye, it looked sort of like metal. Maybe just a really shiny piece of silver coloured linen, she thought. Like part of a fancy ball dress? She’d heard of such things, but never seen them herself. 

She reached for it, and then recollected her standing instructions. ‘If I don’t know what it is, don’t touch it until Madame’s looked at it.’ Madame had been pretty firm about that one. She’d rapped Jenny’s knuckles for it once. Not hard but it had stung. Jenny remembered to call Madame after that.

Or in this case, the Doctor would do, she guessed. She glanced back, and saw that the others had got the pod-piece loose, and were looking it over carefully.

Jenny looked over her own prize for another moment, and then called the adults over.

The Doctor ambled over, reluctant to leave off his investigation of the pod fragment. His attention sharpened though when he saw Jenny’s find. He looked it over with interest, and then carefully picked up the scrap of metal cloth with the trowel.

Beneath it was a large bit of bone that looked a bit gnawed, but still disgustingly fresh. There were a lot of dead insects around it. It ended in what looked like it might have been a hand. It seemed to be missing a finger though.

“Ewww!” breathed Jo, leaning away from the grisly object

Jenny just leaned in a bit closer, her curiosity evident.

“Well, that’s a stroke of luck…” murmured the Doctor.

“Bad Luck fer him, good luck for us?” asked Jenny.

“Just so,” nodded the Doctor. He produced a large handkerchief from his pocket, and using the trowel, placed the bone and several of the insects on it, folded part of the handkerchief over it, placed the scrap of cloth on that, and then folded the rest of the handkerchief around all of it in a neat package.

They placed the shattered piece of the pod into a cloth sack Jenny produced from her basket, packed the trowel back into the basket, added cloth wrapped bone, and then Jenny covered it all with the chequered cloth. Jo was amused to realize that Jenny kept a basket of tools ready in the kitchen for use at a moment’s notice. What other adventures had the girl been involved in?

As they walked slowly back to the house, Jo noticed that the Doctor had a distracted look. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I’m rather worried about those dead insects,” explained the Doctor, as he nodded at the basket and sack that he carried. “Until we know what happened, or if these materials are dangerous, I’m rather reluctant to bring them into the house, in case they’re contaminated.”

“If you like, we could put ‘em in one of the rooms over the coach house. They’d be safe, but not in the big house,” said Jenny. “There’s a workbench and some tools there too, if that might help.”

“Excellent. I think would be just the ticket!”

As they walked, Jo Grant kept darting off to look down alleys and into closed gardens along the way. “What are you doing, Miss?” asked Jenny when Jo returned from one of her detours.

“Still looking for the TARDIS, I’m afraid,” said Jo.

“This TARDIS thing, does it disappear very often?” asked Jenny.

“Well, yes and no. It’s not alive really, as far as I know. Although the Doctor often talks as if it is. But it does seem to have the strangest things happen to it. Once it landed wrong, and fell off a cliff; we barely got out in time. The locals eventually recovered it for us. And another time it was grabbed by a giant hand… well, actually the TARDIS was inside a miniaturization field and so were we and The TARDIS was gumming up the works,. The hand was really normal size….”

Jenny could only look at Miss Jo, and wonder if the woman was not right in the head.

“Hang on, it landed wrong? What does that mean, that it’s like a balloon? Thought it was some sort of carriage?”

“It’s a time ship, Jenny,” said the Doctor. “Miss Grant and I are time travellers. Jo here is from the future.”

Jenny was silent for a few minutes, and Jo wondered if the girl was thinking of running away.

“All right, that sort of makes sense,” shrugged Jenny. “Explains why you said you were pretty old, Doctor. And some of the other odd things you talk about.”

Jo and the Doctor exchanged a glance. The girl was taking it well.

Almost too well. It worried both of them what else Jenny knew about. Especially as Jo recalled that the girl knew at least a little about time paradoxes. That wasn’t usually part of the education of Victorian maids, as far as Jo had ever heard.

It was dark by the time they returned to the house, so the Doctor decided to wait until morning to examine their finds. Instead he handed the basket and sack over to Jenny, who locked them up safely in the coach house for the night.  
***

Right after breakfast on Thursday, the Doctor collected a few instruments from Madame Vastra’s laboratory, and then disappeared into the coach house. Jenny wasn’t too happy about lending out Madame’s prized (and as Jenny, who kept their records after all knew full well, very expensive) tools, but she could see the worry on the Doctor’s face about bringing the stuff they’d found into the house. 

Several hours later, he reappeared, still looking worried. “As I thought,” he told Jo and Jenny, “that cloth is not from earth. There are elements in it that simply aren’t found here. The remaining flesh on the bone isn’t human, either. And there’s also a high degree of radiation contamination on the cloth, the body part and the pod.”

“Are we in danger?” Jo gave a worried glance at Jenny. Jo had been sick several times during their adventures together from various diseases and radiation poisoning, but always recovered. She suspected that the TARDIS had something to do with it. But the TARDIS wasn’t here this time, and they had to protect Jenny as well.

“Not yet,” said the Doctor. “Those insects died from a combination of both radiation contamination and exposure; they tried to consume the flesh of course, as part of the normal decomposition process, and it killed them. We’ve had minimal exposure though, and I intend to keep it that way.”

“How?” asked Jo.

“Using a lead-lined box to contain the sample would be easiest. Jenny, where can we buy an old tea-chest around here? They’re usually lined with lead foil. Not the healthiest food safety practice, but this time it works in our favour...”

Jenny gave him directions to their tea merchant, where they had an account and who she knew could deliver the chests if needed. Just before he left, Jenny asked if it was safe to have a lesson in the main part of the coach house on the ground floor, and the Doctor reassured them that they’d be fine, so long as they stayed away from the upper room where Jenny had left the sack and the basket. 

***

On Thursday afternoon, Jo found a pair of sturdy brown corduroy trousers and a plain white cotton shirt laid out in her room. Jenny had let Jo know when the clothes arrived just before lunch and when Jo joked about the locals wondering if there was a small man in the house as well, Jenny had reassured her; apparently Madame Vastra’s dressmaker was both quick and discrete. Jo grinned at the memory, and then changed and did a few stretches. The clothes were practical and comfortable, just the thing for practicing throwing one’s weight around. Or someone else’s weight, in this case. 

Jo went down to the basement, and found Jenny, already changed, practicing with the locks. She glanced up as Jo entered, looked her over and nodded approvingly. “That looks good on you. Suit you, those do.”

“I like skirts and dresses too, but for scrambling madly after the Doctor, nothing beats a trouser suit,” grinned Jo. “Luck for me, they’re in fashion by my time; most people don’t even bat an eye.”

Jenny led Jo out to the coach house, and opened the door to the main room, and while Jo looked around, Jenny opened up the shutters so they had more light.

“Oh, look at all the space!” gushed Jo. “It’s perfect for a little gymnasium!” 

There were several thick leather mats piled against the wall. Jenny dragged them into the centre of the room, and Jo could tell that although Jenny handled them well, the mats were very heavy. They reminded Jo of old ones she’d seen at school, and she knew they were likely stuffed with horsehair. Once Jenny had everything laid out, she took off her shoes and bounced a bit on the mats, settling them into place. Jo kicked off her shoes as well, and joined her on the mats. 

They warmed up a little bit with some stretches. Then Jo determined that Jenny already knew how to fall safely on the hard mats, and some basics on unarmed fighting. And who taught her that, wondered Jo. Surely it wasn’t the girl’s mistress! She asked Jenny, who quickly assured her that Madame Vastra really was her teacher! 

They reviewed a few basic moves first. And Jo made sure Jenny knew what the ‘safe’ word was. Sometimes in Jo’s training, it had been a slap on the mat. In others, a verbal command was needed. Jo made sure Jenny knew both. Jenny said that when She and Madame Vastra practiced, ‘Stop’ was the word. They practiced for a bit, one or the other calling out the command, and then began the real lesson. 

“All right, as soon as someone touches you or it’s clear you can’t get away, shout loudly, something like “Back Off!” and push back at him. That’s to both signal for help and it lets the attacker know you’re not an easy target,” said Jo.

Jenny nodded. Madame Vastra had told her the same thing, and Jenny had done it herself as well. They practiced that a few times, with Jenny pushing Jo. Jo was quite ready for the shouting and pushing. What Jo wasn’t ready for was how aggressive Jenny was, even in practice. When they’d spared a little bit during their warm-up, just shadow-boxing, Jo had noticed that Jenny seemed to have trouble pulling her punches as well.

“Jenny, this is just practice. I’d rather you not knock me out, please. It hurts, and it upsets the Doctor terribly.”

“Sorry, miss. Use to rough-housing with the boys. Can’t be gentle with them, they get the idea I’m weak and there’ll be no end of trouble. And Madame Vastra’s pretty thick-skinned as well. I’ll be more mindful of it, promise.”

Jo nodded in understanding.

“All right, now what’s important to remember if someone grabs you, or you end up in a fight?” asked Jo. 

Jenny grinned fiercely. “Don't stop. Keep hitting them. Even if you get loose, don't stop fighting.” A wave of sadness passed over her face. “Da taught me that.”

“Right,” said Jo. “Keep attacking until your opponent is unable to fight back or threaten you in any way.” She kept talking, trying to get Jenny past her funk. “The only thing worse than not defending yourself is defending yourself poorly or half-way.” Jo smiled ruefully, “That’s my problem; I don’t have that instinct to attack. I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

Jenny grinned back at her. “I’m a fighter,” she said. “I’m still a bit young to be a lover, right?”

***

They spent a fun but exhausting hour reviewing some of the self-defence moves that Jo had learned in her UNIT training. Fun for Jenny that was, and exhausting for Jo. She hadn’t realized how out of practice she was. Being with the Doctor mostly involved being able to sneak, hide and run very, very fast. Screaming was usually an option as well, although Jo was trying to get out of that habit; it never seemed to help very much. And honestly, she couldn’t see Jenny as much of a screamer. The girl was so quiet! 

Near the end of the lesson, Jenny asked Jo, “Can you show me that throw you used at St. Paul’s? The one when the bloke grabbed you from behind and you tossed him like a dustman’s sack?”

Jo laughed. “The Shoulder Knee Throw? Alright, but let’s take it gently. I don’t want either of us getting hurt!” Jenny nodded happily.

“Now, a stranglehold attack from behind would certainly take you by surprise,” said Jo. “But keep as calm as possible and you should have no difficulty getting out of it.”

Jo slipped behind Jenny, and slid her arm around Jenny’s neck and grabbed her shoulder, while grabbing the back of Jenny’s collar with her other hand. Jenny blinked, surprised at both the grip, and the warmth of Jo’s body pressing against her. She swallowed nervously, but tried to pay attention.

“Lean backwards on to the attacker, grasping his sleeve with your right hand. At the same time grasp his wrist with your left hand.” 

Jenny grabbed Jo’s wrist and her sleeve. “A bit higher Jenny,” said Jo, “You want a bit more leverage for this. And don’t be afraid to lean back, you want to knock your attacker off balance.” Jenny nodded and changed her grip, leaning back against Jo. 

“Slide your right leg firmly back against his right leg, at the same time dropping your right knee to the ground. As you drop, pull his right arm sharply down over you; thrust your hips back hard as you can against over his right leg, and continue throwing your body forward as you pull his arm down, hard.”

Jenny pulled and dropped, and Jo Grant went sailing over her shoulder. Jo, experienced in being tossed around like a sack of potatoes by her much larger trainers, kept her body relaxed, and slapped the mat with her hands and forearms to absorb her momentum.

“This will completely break his balance, and throw him heavily to the ground, at which point you are free to run for it, or stay and face him, depending how far you’ve progressed with your training,” concluded Jo, as she bounced up to face Jenny.

“But really, the best advice I can give is for you to not get into a fight in the first place,” Jo reminded Jenny as they finished up the lesson for the day.

“Now, where’s the fun in that?” asked Jenny with a wicked grin.

***

They walked back to the main house, and Jo settled at the kitchen table while Jenny put the kettle on the stove. Jenny bustled around getting a tea pot and cup for Jo, and her own battered tin mug. At last she sat and eyed Jo thoughtfully, then cocked her head. “So the two of you travel back and forth in time?” asked Jenny. “Is that what the TARDIS does?”

“Yes and it travels in space as well,” said Jo. “The Doctor, well, he was stranded in one place for a while by his people. That’s how I met him; he works with UNIT as a Scientific Advisor, and I’m his assistant. His people damaged the TARDIS so he couldn’t leave. But from time to time, they needed his help, so they’d repair it and let him loose, but they’d always exile him back to my time again afterwards. Then after a few years of this, they had a really big problem, and they had to get the Doctor to fix it. All three of him. I helped a little bit too. After that, they gave him the piece he needed to fix the TARDIS and let him go. We’ve been travelling since then. 

“All three of him?”

“It’s a bit complicated…”

Jenny gave her gently sceptical look that clearly said she thought Jo was pulling her leg. Jo did her best to look innocent. She wasn’t sure though if Jenny believed her or not.

Jenny stood, ready to go change back to her usual clothes. She regarded Jo for a long moment and then said uncertainly “Ah, Miss, I have lessons tomorrow morning, you remember?”

Jo nodded. “You certainly do like learning new things, don’t you?”

Jenny shrugged. “Depends on the lesson. The locks and the fighting, that’s really interesting. Lessons on religion and morals, like what we had in school, maybe not so much. Hard to take that very serious when the young ones are hungry and Ma and Da are looking worried, or worse.”

Jo grimaced in sympathy and nodded. Jenny had barely mentioned her family before now. Was this why? Had she left home so there was one less mouth to feed? 

“Anyway, reason I’m asking is,”Jenny continued, “do you maybe want me to ask tomorrow if you can come too next week? My teachers’ club be a bit funny about having women around, but Mr Parker and Mr Taylor are pretty good sorts. If you’re interested, I can maybe sneak you in?”

“Why are they ‘a bit funny’ about women? You said you were having lessons with Mr Parker. But if you’re not having riding lessons, what are you learning?”

“Shooting, miss. How to use a rifle. Been told not to call it a gun. Mr Taylor, he’s my other teacher, he says we’re not learning to shoot cannon, blast it!” Jenny grinned at the joke. “He’s an American, so he talks a little strange, but he’s pretty nice most of the time. I think he spooks Madame a bit though. Don’t know why.” Jenny shrugged. “He’s the one who started teaching Madame and me, but Madame wants Mr Parker or one of the other Greenjackets there as well. To keep an eye on things, I guess.” 

“The owner of a cab livery company is teaching you riflery?” Jo asked, surprised.

Jenny nodded. “Mr Parker and Mr Taylor and their friends, they all use to be soldiers, you see. Special soldiers, called sharpshooters. They’re all really good shots! And they say I’m pretty good too.”

‘Good Grief!’ thought Jo. ‘She’s being trained by a group of former snipers! If they’re willing to teach a young girl, she must be rather better than “pretty good!”’

But all Jo said was, “Do you enjoy those lessons?” 

“To be honest, I like learning to shoot even though it makes my ears ring, but I like close up fighting better. Makes me feel... more alive somehow.”

“Well, even if they are skittish about teaching me,” said Jo, “I’d certainly like to at least watch you practice, and perhaps meet your other teacher.” ‘And make sure these men aren’t setting you up to take advantage of you later,’ thought Jo. 

Jenny nodded happily. She was pretty sure she could arrange that much a least.

***

Mr Dawes was a man considered to be a natural leader amongst the business elite of the City of London. Despite his acknowledged position of power though, he felt a great deal of trepidation as he approached the Guildhall for the new Lord Mayor’s first official Dinner and Ball since his swearing in on the previous Saturday. Although primarily a business function, Dawes knew full well that the Prince of Wales, who took a practical view of the world of commerce, and consulted some of the finer financial minds of the time on his business affairs, was going to visit later in the evening.

Dawes was dreading it. He had no wish to repeat the humiliation of their previous meeting, especially in front of witnesses who were far more likely to remember it that the general populace on an early Saturday morning. But his discreet enquiries had turned up nothing to explain the Prince’s behaviour.

Seated with his fellows, Mr Dawes ate the magnificent dinner, and drank the expensive wine, and they tasted like ashes in his mouth. 

The buzz in the Guildhall increased when the Prince arrived. Dawes knew he only had a few minutes grace before he was noticed. As the Prince drew closer and closer, Dawes felt his stomach drop, but he kept his stiff upper lip firmly in place, ready to deal with whatever insults he had to endure. 

Inevitably, he was spotted. Dawes took a steadying breath, trying to keep his heart from racing.

“Ah Dawes!” The Prince exclaimed, striding towards him. “Good to see you again!”

Dawes felt faint, but held on manfully. Apparently, he needn't have worried. He was confused as all blazes, of course, but it seemed as if for this evening at least, his honor was going to survive intact.

And for the rest of the evening, the Prince acted as if the incident had never happened.

Later that evening, Dawes overheard a startling conversation:

“Your Highness,” asked one of the men surrounding the Prince, “How’s the game been this fall?”

“Excellent, replied the Prince. “I’ve been out of town for most of the week, of course. Caught the Lord Mayor’s show on the ninth, and celebrated my Fortieth with a few friends, then went to Sandringham for a long weekend with some people. Had several very good days of shooting!” The prince, a noted sportsman, beamed happily.

Dawes felt stunned. Why was the Prince lying about where he’d been. Perhaps he’d given Dawes a cut so that he wouldn’t speak about seeing him in London when he claimed to be at his country house. 

But why lie? What was the Prince of Wales attempting to hide? Another one of his many affairs? Or was it something more sinister?

***

On Friday morning, Jenny took the shopping list and made her rounds, placing her orders for food for the next few days. Lots of bacon and eggs, of course, those kept well, Jenny thought, and they made a good breakfast. More vegetables, especially root vegetables, than usual. They’d keep well, and both the Doctor and Miss Grant liked to eat them, and weren’t too fussy about what was served to them. Jenny had found a slim cookbook in the kitchen ages ago and was now trying out some of the soups, which they found pretty tasty. O‘course, ordering more greens brought its own troubles…

Mrs Crawford, the grocer, took Jenny’s list, read it through, and then raised her eyes and looked over it at Jenny. “The guests are still at the house then?” she asked. “They seem to be settling in for a long stay. When’s Madame Vastra coming back?”

Jenny scowled and looked down. “Hell if I know, she ain’t said,” she muttered, then looked up stricken. “Sorry, Mrs. C! I just... she’s didn’t…” Jenny sighed. “She’s got a pretty big case out in Egypt, and I’m scared she’ll miss something important, and get into trouble if I’m not there to help her out.” 

“Really?” drawled Mrs. Crawford. Jenny had been moping around since Madame Vastra left. And of course, she’d been left with that strange Doctor Garrett. A woman doctor indeed! What self-respecting person had ever heard of such a thing!

And now these strangers. Mrs Brown had looked them over when they visited The Gin Palace, and said that they seemed nice enough, and Mrs. Crawford’s own boy George delivered a regular order every few days, and then reported back to his mother, but still it all seemed very havey-cavey to her. 

Jenny sighed. “Sure. Keep Madame fed, don’t I, on stuff that’s good fer her and won’t get her in trouble. And I keep her notes, and tell her about people. She’s not real good with people, you see. Mind you, she’s gettin’ better.”

Mrs Crawford simply raised an eyebrow. Vastra had been a complete recluse for the few months she’d lived in the area before Jenny arrived. The young girl then pretty well took over Vastra’s small household. And while the woman was now the mysterious widow of Paternoster Row, at least she had a title, a place in the pecking order, and a young maid of all work to keep her life, well, at least something resembling organized. Mrs Crawford, and several of the local merchants, had become rather fond of Jenny, and by extension her reclusive mistress. They were (usually) polite, paid their bills promptly, and if a hint or two was dropped to Jenny or her shrouded lady, the most dangerous of the local human trash tended to miraculously disappear.

Still, strangers who took advantage were not to be coddled. Mrs Crawford probed what Jenny thought about her long-term tenants with a slight sneer, “Guests and fish stink after…”

But Jenny shook her head. “No, it’s all right. Madame Vastra knows they’re here, and sent them a note when she wrote me back. The young miss ain’t bad, she’s even offered to help with the chores. Told her ‘no’ of course, but Madame asked her to help me with some lessons on things like how to lay out the plates proper and such.” Jenny knew not to mention the other, far more interesting, lessons that Miss Jo was teaching her now. 

Mrs. Crawford made a vaguely disapproving noise. “Fine then. I don’t mind the business of course, but strangers are never good news.”

Jenny grinned at her. “Madame and me are still pretty new round here. Ain’t we strangers too?”

Mrs Crawford tried to look stern. “Good customers are never strangers for long.” It didn’t last, as Mrs Crawford slid into a half-smile. “One either learns to overlook all their little quirks, or at some point, if they remain a little strange, they become that wonderful British Institution, an Eccentric.”

Jenny laughed out loud. “Need to be flush to be ‘centric. Guess that’s Madame though, right enough! A wealthy ‘centric widow!”

‘And her feisty little cockney maid,’ thought Mrs Crawford, with a fond smile at Jenny. Certainly the two are quite the pair! And they certainly provided a wonderful supply for friendly gossip and speculation with their growing reputation for madcap adventures amongst the locals who were ‘in the Know.’ 

***

Her visit with Mrs Crawford cheered Jenny up, and she was in a better mood as she approached the house on Paternoster Row. She was almost to the area steps down to the kitchen, when she was hailed by a loud voice. “Jenny Flint!” She glanced across the street and just groaned. 

Constable Lestrade was striding towards her. “What are you up to, you little devil?” he demanded.

“Shopping,” said Jenny shortly. ”Got to feed the guests, now don’t I?”

“So they are still here!” sneered Lestrade, looming over Jenny. “I saw that brat Wiggins mucking around near the tracks yesterday, and you and your ‘guests’ were with him! Any more wild stories? More killer pigs or falling stars?”

Jenny stood her ground, trying hard to hang on to her temper. This arse was almost as bad as the former Inspector Peaslin, but he had pull in the area, and could make her life miserable if he wanted to. “Ask ‘em yerself, if you want. You know I won’t blab about Madame’s guests!” 

“Maybe I’ll do just…”

“Constable Lestrade, isn’t it?” broke in a new voice. Posh, female and extremely annoyed.

Lestrade straightened up. Jenny glanced over her shoulder to see Miss Jo standing at the top of the front steps, wrapped in her nice warm cloak, glaring at the constable and looking for all the world like a beautiful avenging angel. 

***

Jo Grant had spent the last several years of her life around soldiers. She’d seen how Sergeant Benton kept discipline with his men, and how the Brigadier had kept discipline over officers and men alike. She didn’t always like it, and she didn’t always agree with the methods, but she’d learned a great deal from watching them. 

And a Victorian policeman with a tendency to bully young girls was NOT going to be tolerated. Not on her watch!

“Jenny,” Jo addressed the girl, glancing at her for a moment, and then settling her eyes back on the bobby. “Go to the kitchen. We have lessons soon.”

Jenny scampered down the front area steps to the basement entrance. Jo kept her eyes on the constable, as she heard the door open and shut again.

“Lessons?” asked Lestrade, who though deprived of his quarry, tried to regain control of the encounter. “Sewing and cooking and girl stuff?” he asked with a slight sneer.

Jo held his eyes calmly and waited, looking down at him. The man was tall, but the stairs put Jo, small as she was, just above his eye level. She simply stared him down, drawing on the dignity that she’d needed to pass as The Princess of Tardis. Only women of royalty were allowed in the throne room on the distant world of Peladon, so it was a case of ‘carry it off or die.’ She’d carried it off so well, the young King had proposed marriage. She’d turned him down, of course. A lie was never a good foundation for a relationship.

Constable Lestrade never had a chance at winning this battle of wills against this particular young woman of the ‘Quality’, as Jo calmly waited for him to catch on and address her properly. “Ah, Lessons, Miss?” he finally asked, a tad more respectfully.

“Advanced lessons in etiquette befitting a household such as this, of course, since Jenny has a decent grounding in basic manners...” Jo paused and left, ‘unlike you’ hanging in the air as she eyed the man for a beat. “Among other more … advanced… subjects,” Jo continued. “Jenny is young, and she will benefit from a little polish, but her heart is good. There’s certainly no reason for you behaving like such a great ogre!”

“She’s got a bunch of the young toughs round here dancin’ to her tune…”

“Yes, I’ve seen that several of the young men are earning honest money by running errands on Jenny’s instructions, and helping in Doctor’s investigation. A case that you yourself are both aware of and demanded to be included it. So, what have you heard since we last spoke?” Jo shifted the subject and used Lestrade’s insistence in being in on the case to deflect him.

Lestrade blustered and muttered about ‘official business’ until Jo cut him off. 

“I certainly don’t want to waste your time if you are not interested in the case, and the others certainly won’t tolerate the presence of someone who is actively undermining the investigation. So you need to decide where you stand.” 

“Now, as it happens,” Jo continued, “The Doctor has an update for Inspector Abernathy and Constable Palmer, and it’s related to what Wiggins discovered the other day. Do you want to be here for that discussion? Because if so you need to behave in a civil manner to Jenny. She is responsible for this household while Madame Vastra is away, and you should be making sure she can do that.” 

Lestrade flushed, but the young woman wasn’t shouting or making a scene, just being firm with him. “Think it would be best if I know what’s happening on my beat, miss.”

“Fine then. I'll speak with the Doctor to make sure you’re included when we meet. However, from now on, you will speak politely to Jenny because she works in a respectable household, and deserves to be treated with respect herself.”

Jo Grant fixed Constable Lestrade with a stern gaze. “You need to protect this house, just as you protect your entire beat. If Jenny’s boys commit a crime, of course you must arrest them. That’s quite reasonable. But this habit of assuming that they are up to no good, and that Jenny is somehow involved, smacks of either obsession or jealousy.” 

“You’re a decent man, I believe. I can tell that you take your work seriously; but you need to focus less on a few children, and more on incidents that require the skills and training of a professional police officer. ”

Lestrade flushed again, but nodded stiffly.

“Constable Lestrade, I expect that this will be the last occasion when anyone needs to speak with you about how a City of London policeman should interact with any young servant of a household on his beat. Agreed?” Jo still didn’t break eye contact. Lestrade squirmed a little, but nodded.

“Then carry on, Constable,” Jo said at her most regal. Lestrade, thoroughly chastised by this slip of a woman, and then built back up to the right attitude, touched his helmet, and departed.

Jo Grant watched the constable walk down the street at a brisk pace while trying to conceal his retreat. She turned and walked calmly back to the half-open doorway, then stopped, and without looking said in a carrying voice.

“Jenny! Show’s over! Inside, Now!” and she stepped back into the house and closed the front door.

From her hiding place under the stairs, Jenny started in surprise, and dove for the kitchen door, impressed. Miss Grant had just known that she was there, she hadn’t even turned around! Now that was really brilliant!

And the Doctor, unnoticed by all in the shadows as he watched the entire scene though the library window, hurried back to the desk where he’d been reading, and tried to look casual.

Jo Grant swept in, followed by Jenny carrying a tray of biscuits, and a teapot.

“Thought you might like some tea before lessons, Miss Jo, Doctor,” Jenny addressed them both.

Jo nodded. “Thank you, Jenny.”

The Doctor and Jenny Flint gazed at her in fascination, as Jo Grant calmly seated herself, picked up a cup of tea and took an elegant sip, and after gazing back at the pair of them regally for a moment, broke down in a fit of laughter. “Goodness, I can’t believe that really worked!” said Jo.

Both the Doctor and Jenny Flint were united in the same thought: Josephine Grant really was a wonderful young woman! 

And, Jenny decided again, Miss Grant was awfully pretty too!

***

On Saturday, Wiggins whistled happily as he walked along on his way to the Police Station on Old Jewry near the Bank of England. He carried a note from The Doctor, and enough coins that he could take an omnibus over to Scotland Yard to deliver one to Inspector Abernathy as well. And Jenny promised a hot dinner if he came and answered any questions the men asked when they met that afternoon. And he’d still be paid too! Wiggins liked his freedom, but he had to admit, having a honest source of a few pence here and there made things lots easier for him. 

He gave the note to Constable Palmer, who read it, and simply said, “Yes, I’ll be there.” Wiggins nodded, and headed out for his stop. He was trying to choose if he should take the omnibus and save his shoes, or walk and save the pennies, when he saw a man leaning against a nearby street-lamp. For some reason, the man raised Wiggins’ street-wise hackles. 

Wiggins frowned but kept walking. Wiggins was good with faces; that was one reason why he was useful to Jenny’s mistress. And he was clever in his ways; he’d learned over his short life not to attract too much attention. So he turned away, walking slowly, but kept thinking. The man looked familiar, and not in a good way. One of the bully boys from the area? No, too well dressed for that. Had he pinched something from the man when he was younger? No, he didn’t think that was it…. One of the shop owners…?

And then Wiggins placed him. He was one of the men from the cart that had taken the pods. The one who had offered up the beer to the workers.

What was he doing around here? He seemed to be just hanging about….

As if he was waiting for someone. Or watching for someone.

Someone at the Police Station? Or for someone to visit the police?

Wiggins didn’t feel good all of a sudden. Jenny often came by here to visit the Bank or see Constable Palmer, maybe they were looking for her? Of maybe for Miss Jo? They hadn’t seen Jenny, he was pretty sure, and even if they had, they’d just think she was a maid. But they’d seen Miss Jo. And they’d seen him too, come to think on it.

Wiggins stopped at a nearby shop window and pretended to admire the display, while glancing back at the leaning man. After a minute or so, a second man joined him, handed him a steaming mug, and started to sip one himself. There must be a tea or coffee seller nearby, Wiggins thought. He cocked his head, and listened carefully. Old Jewry was fairly quiet, so he could hear snatches of what the men were saying.

“You’ve been at this off and on for over a week now, and no sign of them. Give it up.”

“You might be right. But that Bobby’s the only lead we have to those snoopers.”

They were watching Constable Palmer! Even though he was a blue bottle, he was friends with Jenny so Wiggins decided there and then that he didn’t like these blokes. He wandered a little more down the street, and then turned casually into one of the many back lanes that made London interesting to get around. Another turn or two, and he came up on the big street that connected the police station to the rear entrance to the Bank of England. And sure enough, there was a tea seller with her handcart and its barrel brazier. She eyed him with suspicion, but he held up a ha’penny and looked hopeful, and she handed him a chipped mug half full of warm tea in exchange. He made sure not to wander off with the cup, but leaned against the wall near her cart. Right around the corner from the two men, where he could hear them, but they couldn’t see him. Jenny’d taught him that trick, and it was a good one.

“Do we take care of the Policeman?” One of them asked. “The busybodies never found anything, and the dockers shut their mouths quick enough. Marvelous how well the threat of a hungry winter works, especially if they’ve got a parcel of brats.” Both men chuckled. Wiggins scowled. Buggers! Laughin’ ‘bout a thing like that!

“As for the Bobby, maybe we do, maybe we don’t,” the other one replied. “I don’t think he knows about the goods. If he doesn’t, we’ll let him be. No use arousing suspicion if he thinks those two are just a couple of cranks.”

Wiggins finished his tea, returned the mug, and took a back route to The Mansion House Underground station. He could warn Palmer at the meeting about the men. But he wanted to get his second note delivered fast, hang the expense, and then get get back to Paternoster Row and warn Jenny that her guests were being hunted.

***  
Late in the afternoon, three police officers, the Doctor, Jo Grant, and Jenny assembled in Madame Vastra’s Drawing Room. There was plenty of tea and a plate of sandwiches (good hearty ones, Jo was amused to see, none of your dainty quartered tea sandwiches for these people.) Everyone had their notebooks out; Police and Jenny alike. The Doctor brought them up to date: their search at the docks which had been cut short; his analysis of the memory potion; which was inconclusive, and Wiggins finding a piece of the pod and the alien body part. And how it was now contained. 

Wiggins had arrived just minutes before the men, out of breath from running, but he managed to wheeze out that he had something important to tell Constable Palmer and Jenny during the meeting. He was in the kitchen; like Tom he wasn’t very comfortable in the main part of the house, so Jenny’d left him with a nice big sandwich and a mug of tea and let him catch his breath.

The police could add little the information they’d discovered so far. Abernathy apologized for his distraction from the case; the Disraeli imposter had been spotted a few more time, nothing serious yet, but he’d been seen around Whitehall, and again at the palace of Westminster, and Abernathy was run ragged trying to find out what was going on. Palmer had kept his ears and eyes opened, but it was fairly quiet in the area that encompassed his beat. Lestrade added that there had been no additional action around the railway tracks, except for Wiggins’ explorations, and their retrieval of the pod piece. 

Constable Lestrade behaved himself, and simply took notes. He didn’t argue, and he managed to not pick a fight with Jenny. Jo Grant was rather please that he’d listened to her. 

But overall the update was rather frustrating. There was no sign of the alien, and they still weren’t sure what the other men from the pods even looked like. Unless Tom or the match girls turned up something more from the Docks, they were at a standstill.

Then Jenny remembered that Wiggins had something important to tell Palmer. So she fetched him up from the kitchen.

Wiggins then proceeded to kick their standstill investigation back into high gear, with his announcement of the two men looking for ‘a couple of cranks,’ and trailing Palmer to find them.

“Being stalked like a tooler’s mark, am I?” growled Constable Palmer. “Wait till I get my hands on those two!”

Arrangements were quickly made for Wiggins to identify the two men to Palmer. Jenny listened, and simply made note of when the others would meet. She needed to go up to the bank next week anyway; both to see Mr Thackeray and to withdraw some extra funds to cover her guests expenses. She wouldn’t mind getting a good look at these two fellows herself.

*** 

After the others left, Jenny went down to make supper, and then finished up her letter to Madame Vastra. 

_November 19, 1881_

_We’ve had some good luck and some bad trying to find the missing pods. Tom, Tucker and the match girls was able to dig up some chatter about strange goings on at the West India Docks out by Greenwich, and was trying to chase it down. But the Doctor sort of scuttled things by showing up in his fancy clothes and poking around. He must a’been spotted by some cove who could put a squeeze on the dockers, Now Tom says no one’s talking much at all._

Jenny went on to write about Wiggins finding the piece of a pod and the unsettling but useful discovery of the body part. She also thought Madame might be interested in the Doctor’s notes from the beer samples, so she added those as well. She’d copied the notes carefully into her notebook a few evenings after the Doctor had done his tests. It was only fair; he wrote them on her old schoolroom slate!

Jenny told Madame Vastra about the lessons with Miss Grant, and Jo’s rebuke of Constable Lestrade in Jenny’s defence as well. Then she folded up the thin paper, and tucked it into an envelope. Jenny addressed it and then frowned, weighing the thick letter a little in her hand. She shrugged and put an extra stamp on it for the trip.

And then ran to catch the last mail pick-up of the day. Jenny was worried she’d miss it, but the bouncing postman was there just as she arrived, and she turned the letter over to him with a sigh of relief. And the postage must be right, because he only said, “Making sure it gets there eh? Don’t you worry, it’ll be there quick as a wink.” 

***

On Sunday it was pouring rain when Jo Grant came downstairs. Jenny had obviously been up for a while, and there was a fine breakfast waiting in the Dining Room. As she ate, Jo glanced out the window, watching the water teaming down the panes, and made an off-hand comment about going to church, just for something to do. 

Jenny’s head whipped around, and Jo could see the anger in the girl’s eyes. “I don’t think…” Jenny started, and then stopped short and drew a breath. “Sorry, Miss Jo, that was really rude o’ me. I’ll get your cloak and me coat when you’re done.”

Jo suddenly remembered that Jenny had been weeping during church the previous Sunday. No way was she going to drag the poor girl out in weather like this to something that upset her just because Jo was bored.

“Jenny, it’s fine! I’m not a big church goer myself. It’s not important, just something to do. We can spend the day reading and practicing with the locks instead. Honest!” 

Jenny looked Jo for a long moment and then nodded. “I think there’s a game of dominos around somewhere,” she murmured, ashamed of herself for snapping at Madame’s guest. “Maybe we can have a go at that as well.”

Jo Grant soon realized why the Victorian middle class loved music and games so much: there was, to Jo’s mind at least, simply nothing much else to do in one’s spare time. No television, no radio, no cinema, no records. There are plays and lectures, of course, Jo knew. But many people worked until late at night just to feed themselves the next morning. Jenny, for instance, was always working on something around the house, cooking or cleaning or making sure the rooms had coal and kindling for their fires. 

Still, it would be nice to do something different. Jo wondered if perhaps she could talk the Doctor into seeing a play some evening. They’d take Jenny too, of course!

***

Later that morning the Doctor approached his bedroom to fetch a book he’d forgotten, when he heard a rustling noise. He peeked around the corner to find Jenny bundling up the sheets on his bed. Fresh sheets lay ready on the chair nearby. As Jenny picked up the the first one, the Doctor walked into the room and said, “Let me help you with that.” Although Jenny protested, the Doctor gently took the sheet, and with a snap and wave of his two long arms, sent the sheet billowing up and over the bed, letting it spread itself smoothly. After that, it was just a matter of tugging it around a little and neatly folding the corners. 

Jenny tried, but she mostly crammed the corners under the mattress. “I was showed when we were at an inn last summer how to do proper corners, but I got out of practice after Madame left,” she explained sheepishly.

The Doctor chuckled and called out, “Jo!” When she appeared he asked, “Do you know how to do that hospital tuck thing with bed sheets?”

Jo nodded and showed Jenny, who paid attention, happy to relearn the forgotten knack. The Doctor stood ready with the second sheet. When the bottom sheet was all tucked in neatly, he repeated the trick of billowing the sheet and after it too was tucked in he added the blanket and the bed was quickly and neatly made. “It’s the height,” he told Jenny, “it lets the sheet spread out nicely, as you saw. I can be useful for something, right?”

“Goodness, Jenny, do you wash all these sheets by yourself?” Jo asked, looking at the pile, and mentally adding in her own and Jenny’s.

“No miss. Madame said it’s a waste of my time, so I only do laundry once a month or so to keep my hand in. We have a laundry woman do the rest; she’s the widow of one of Mr Parker’s drivers what died in an accident last year. She takes in washing to get by. Works out well for both of us; she gets decent work, and I get more time to work on Madame’s cases, or work on my lessons. I’ll send them over to her tomorrow.”

Jenny bundled up the sheets carried the used sheets to the back stairs. There she opened a panel in the central shaft. Inside was an enclosed shelf with a pair of ropes running up one side inside the open shaft.

“Oh, it’s a dumb-waiter!” said Jo. “I haven't seen one of those in years!” 

The Doctor examined the small lift, as Jenny put the sheets into a basket, and then using the rope pulls at the side, she lowered it down to the basement. There were other sheets already in the basket and the Doctor guessed that Jenny had already changed her sheets and Jo’s as well. 

“That’s handy,” said Jo approvingly. “Saves you carrying everything up and down the stairs.”

“It’s good for the sheets and light stuff,” said Jenny. “Not as much for the coal and the water. They’re too heavy and it’s hard for me to control the ropes. I’m getting better though as I get stronger.”

“It’s not counterweighted enough,” said the Doctor as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “and I think I’ll have a look at how the brake tackles works. See if I can improve it a bit.”

“Doctor that’s’ awful kind but….”

“Let him have a look Jenny,” advised Jo. “He’s very good with things like this. and he’ll make sure he puts it back together properly, won’t he.” She said to the Doctor sternly. 

The Doctor nodded absently, his head already half in the shaft as he looked it over. He even pulled out his light cylinder and shone it up and down the ropes.

“What is that, anyway?” asked Jenny.

“An electric torch,” said Jo. 

“Never seen something like that. Usually if the lift’s jammed up I need to use candle or a lamp to see anything.” 

“Well, it’s at least twenty year early for now,” said the Doctor. “It is very handy though.”

Jenny shook her head, and left the Doctor muttering to himself, while she went to make sure the water pitchers were full.

***

The Monday morning post brought a letter for Jenny. She read it and then went to find the Doctor and Jo.

“Doctor Garrett-Anderson’s back from Edinburgh,” Jenny told them. “She’s going to drop by at tea-time to meet you.” It was clear from Jenny’s grin that refusal simply was not an option.

Jo nodded. Jenny had told her a bit about Doctor Garrett during their daily lessons. Before the Doctor and Jo wandered into her life on Guy Fawkes Night, and while Madame Vastra was away, Jenny spent the previous few weeks studying with Doctor Garrett. Jenny said they’d met the lady doctor and her husband on pretty bad evening in July when they’d found a dying girl, and Jenny and Doctor Garrett had tried to help her, but the girl had died anyway. Jo was pretty sure Jenny had left out most of that story. But the upshot was that Doctor Garrett had stayed in touch with the Paternoster household.

Jenny shrugged. “Likely Doctor Garrett wants to make sure I’m treating you proper as well. She knows I’m still pretty new at this sort of thing. Madame’s not too fussy, but guests are something else again. I’d best take care of the sheets and then make sure the house is ready.” She bustled off, muttering a list of chores to herself. 

“We’re going to be inspected, Jo,” the Doctor said with a smile. “See if we pass muster and that Jenny’s safe with us.”

“Bit late for that, isn’t it?” Jo asked as she started to straighten up the newspapers in the library. “We’ve been here two weeks already.”

“No time like the present,” chuckled the Doctor, as he gave his long chin a tug, and then started re-shelving some of the scattered books as well.

***

While she bundled up the sheets to go to the laundry, and inventoried the kitchen for what she could serve for tea, Jenny mulled over Dr Garrett-Anderson and her husband and their curious friendship with Jenny and Vastra.

When Jenny and Madame Vastra finally visited Doctor Garrett in August, shortly after they moved into Paternoster Row, she’d asked if Jenny was interested in learning medicine. The woman was impressed with how steady Jenny was when handling the woman who’d been attacked, and thought she’d would make a good nurse, or perhaps even a doctor if she could obtain the right education.  
Jenny wasn't sure she wanted to do that. She had too many bad memories of those last few days when her brother and sister were sick, and those last terrible and bloody hours with her Ma. She knew she'd be alright helping out and patching someone up right enough, and even taking care of them. But if she had to do it for a living, she thought she'd likely go mad. Jenny considered herself pretty tough, but it took a different kind of toughness to look after the sick and dying every day. Especially to do it without losing all feeling.

But when Madame Vastra was asked to go overseas by the government, and Jenny had to stay behind, Madame thought it was a good chance for Jenny to learn more medical skills, even if it was only enough to patch themselves up in an emergency. It occurred to Jenny at that moment that if Madame was ever hurt, she couldn’t simply call a local doctor; they’d have no idea what to do. And she doubted that Madame would be pleased if she called a zookeeper instead.

So while Madame Vastra was away, Jenny stayed at the Anderson household during the week, and returned home on Saturday and Sunday to make sure the house was kept up properly. It wasn’t bad for Jenny. The family had two children, Louisa and Alan, who were eight and six, and they decided that Jenny was their new big sister. That was a bit fun, but it still made Jenny feel lonely sometimes, knowing that she’d never see her own family again. Least not the ones who she knew had always loved her, and had never put her life in danger for a drink.

And Doctor Garrett made sure she learned other things too. One of Doctor Garrett grumbles about her own education when she was young was the lack of science and maths instruction, both from her governess and later from the boarding school she attended. Jenny found that there were all sorts of science and business books in the Garrett-Anderson household, and she was encouraged to ask questions and ‘make full use’ of her time with them. Dr Garrett’s books, naturally, tended to focus on medicine and biology, and Mr Anderson’s on business, and Jenny found them interesting, but she really liked to get her hands on anything that was about machinery even more. Lucky for her Mr Anderson also had a few books on steamships and steam engines, so Jenny read those as well. She’d always like working with tools, and machines didn’t have a tendency to die if you did something wrong.

The thing she really liked about Dr Garrett though was that she had the same sort of velvet steeliness that Madame Vastra had. Neither of them put up with much nonsense from people, and tended to do things despite what others thought, especially clueless people who couldn’t tell a hamstring from a ham-hock. 

And now Dr Garrett was going to meet the Doctor and Miss Grant. Jenny grinned to herself, wondering what her various eccentric teachers would think of each other. This was going to be quite the show. 

***

The Andersons arrived just as the clock struck four o’clock, in a large, well-maintained carriage. Jenny opened the front door as soon as they knocked, and executed a little bob-curtsey. Jo and the Doctor welcomed them politely, and the four adults adjourned to the front drawing room on the first floor, while Jenny nipped down to the kitchen to fetch the tea. 

Jo soon felt a bit overwhelmed. Dr Elizabeth Garrett-Anderson and her husband James George Skelton Anderson were both well-mannered, well-born and fiercely intelligent. And of course they were very curious as to how the Doctor, and by extension Jo herself, knew Madame Vastra.

Jo was able to be quite honest with them; she’d never met her absent hostess, and was most delighted and impressed with the wonderful hospitality they’d enjoyed, and all the help and care Jenny had given them. Her honesty earned her high marks in the eyes of the Andersons.

The Doctor, however, came in for sharper questioning. Jo was impressed by his ability to stick to the ‘old friends’ line, and reach new heights of ‘vague’ about the specifics of their relationship. The Andersons were surprised to learn that it was Jenny who’d insisted on taking them in, as opposed to their asking for shelter. Standing near the door, ready to respond to any instructions from the adults, Jenny explained that she had standing ‘orders’ from Madame Vastra to assist the Doctor in any way that she could, and Madame herself had praised her for remembering her instructions.

As Doctor Garrett tried to pin down which medical school the Doctor graduated from, they started discussing current medicine. Listening to them, Jo found it hard not to blurt out things that she shouldn't know about. Such as penicillin, anaesthetic, or even aspirin! It was daunting to Jo to realize that the standard first aid training that all UNIT agents received through St. John’s Ambulance put her almost on par with some of the medical professionals of the nineteenth century. Some of them didn’t even believe in germs or the vaccine against smallpox! Dr Garrett, however, seemed to be a more modern sort of doctor.

Out of desperation, Jo turned to Mr. Anderson, and managed to get him talking about his beloved shipping line, the Orient Steamship Company, which had the mail route to Alexandria, Egypt. Although he was a partner in the firm, Mr Anderson was full of praise for the firm’s managing director, Thomas Sutherland. To Jo’s fascination, the company was also making runs to Australia, and their new ship, The Orient, could make the trip to Adelaide in just less than forty days! Jo didn’t have the heart to tell him that by her time, London to Sydney only took about 40 hours!

Part way through the conversation, Jo heard the Doctor asked Dr Garrett if she would examine ‘the bone and tissue sample’ they found, as he’d ‘would very much like to hear her opinion on it.’

Dr Garrett simply shook her head as she demurred. ‘“Doctor, with all due respect, I'm an obstetrician, not a coroner! I don’t think I could be of much help to you at all.” 

***

That evening, as the temperature dropped again, and fires were lit, a ‘London Particular’ started to cloak the city. More London smog than London fog, the smoke of hundreds and thousands of coal fires, collected in the breezeless air. And in the slowly gathering shadows there was new trouble. 

At the gates to Buckingham Palace, the watchful guardsmen on duty were surprised by a man appearing out of the drifting shadows.

“Who goes there?” challenged the lance corporal.

The man strode forward into the dim light of the watch lanterns on the sentry boxes.

“I demand to enter. I am the Prime Minister…”

But the regiments of the Guard had been warned to be on the lookout. They’d not been told exactly what to watch for, but there had been rumours of ghosts. This however, was a pretty solid looking ghost.

“Call out the Guard!!” sang out the lance corporal, as he and his partner leveled their rifles at the intruder.

“Obey me. I am the Prime Minister…”

Or if not a ghost, then more likely...

“Mr Gladstone’s the Prime Minister. You’re an imposter,” snarled the second guardsman.

“I am Benjamin Disraeli, Lord Beaconsfield, The Prime...”

“He’s dead you fool, and if you move, you will be too.”

Both Guardsmen covered him, but the imposter began to advance towards the gate. 

The Guardsmen aimed their weapons, but the man raised his hand and what seemed like a bolt of lightning flashed out and struck the lance corporal. He dropped to the ground, his eyes wide and staring, with a smoking hole in his body. The second guardsman let out a shout of rage, and fired at the murderer. He saw him stagger but not fall, and quickly worked the bolt of his rifle to reload, knowing that his death could come at any moment.

But then a large patrol of Guardsmen arrived and leveled their rifles at the intruder. There was a guttural shout from the shadows outside the palace gate; words that made no sense and didn’t sound human, but the intruder immediately turned and fled in a strangely stiff manner. But still far faster than any of the Guards had ever seen a man run before.

“I hit him,” muttered the shaken Guard, still standing by the lance corporal’s body. “I swear I saw it strike the devil in the chest!”

The lieutenant in command looked around, and as one of the others knelt by the dead man reaching out to close his eyes, he snapped, “Don’t touch him! The police will need to see the body.” 

Ignoring the murmurs of “Sir?“ around him, the lieutenant barked out more orders. “Corporal, send a runner to Scotland Yard, I want one of their inspectors here now! You two, get Williams inside,” the officer pointed to the second Guardsman, who’d just seen the lance-corporal murdered. “The police will want to interview him no doubt, and find out what happened,” he finished. 

The young officer turned and stared back to where the killer had vanished, as his sergeant came up beside him. “What the blazes was that thing?” he muttered.

“No idea, sir,” said the sergeant. “Never seen anything move like that before in me life.”

“Or kill like that either,” replied the lieutenant, staring down at the ragged hole in the lance corporal’s body.

***

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s notes:
> 
> Jo’s instructions to Jenny on the ‘Shoulder Knee Throw’ come from ‘‘Honor Blackman’s Book of Self-Defence” published in 1965. I wanted instructions and a throw that might match Jo Grant’s UNIT training in the 1970’s. Honor Blackman, who has a black belt in Judo, played ‘Cathy Gale’ in ‘The Avengers’ (1962 - 1964), and ‘Pussy Galore’ in the 1964 James Bond film ‘Goldfinger.’ She also is heard in the Doctor Who audio drama The Children of Seth, (released in 2011) in which she plays the role of Anahita. When Blackman left ‘The Avengers’ in 1964, she was replaced by Mrs Emma Peel, played by Diana Rigg. 
> 
> “...the company was also making runs to Australia, and their new ship, The Orient, could make the trip to Adelaide in just less than forty days! Jo didn’t have the heart to tell him that by her time, London to Sydney only took about 40 hours!” And today, the fastest flight from Adelaide Australia to London takes about 30 hours. In 100 years between Jenny’s time and Jo’s they chopped off about 38 days in travel time, in the next forty years they chopped off another 10 hours.


End file.
